Changing Tides
by Shivera
Summary: Tournaments, politics crossdressing, magic weapons and too many cousins. The TriWizard Tournament comes to Hogwarts, because they just can't have a peaceful year. Yoai, yuri, het, language, violence, threesoms, crap spelling and much more.
1. Chapter 1

Sum: Tournaments, politics crossdressing, weapons and too many cousins. The TriWizard Tournament at Hogwarts, because they can't have a peaceful year. Yoai, yuri, het, language, violence, etc.

Authors note: There is more! At long, long last their is more! And have I mentioned that I hate authors block? And on another note, hello duckies, the maddness begins again.

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><p><span>Luna and Lunatics<span>

"MOOOOONEEY! Help!"

Remus Lupin lowered his book slightly and gazed pensively into the partially organised clutter of the library of 13 Grimwald Place. Naturally the mayhem would reach breaking point just as he had found a book that was both interesting and still legible, and he couldn't help but wonder, just a little, if he couldn't just leave them too it.

Harry had a remarkable aptitude for deflecting the chaos before any major damage was done.

"WOTHLESS CUR! YOU SHAME MY BLOOD!"

Ah well, that changed matters. There could be no reading once Arabella and the painting entered one of their screaming matches.

The scene in the hall was, interesting. Arabella was swearing at the painting with her usual intensity, a tear in the shoulder of her shirt and her wand stuck in her hair. Sirius was sitting at the base of the stairs, head in his hands and wearing a pale pink ball gown. The portrait of Walpurger Black was in full voice and Kercher was hugging himself, wide eyed and swaying in a way that implied cannabis.

Remus sighed deeply and dragged his fingernails down the chalk board that was left in the hall for just this reason. Even the painting tried to cover her ears before she slammed her curtain shut.

A month ago she would simply have started shouting again, but being doused with paint thinner had done wonders for her manners and Remus turned his attention to his companions without waiting for a resurgence.

"What have you two been doing?"

"Choosing clothes for Perce wedding!" cooed Arabella, sighing in happy woe. "Ma boo, 'ee es leaven' me…"

"A dress?"

"'Ah like dresses."

"I don't want to wear a dress!" squawked Sirius. "Only girls wear dresses! And these shoes are too small!"

Remus looked at the pink shoes, and couldn't help but consider the implications of Sirius's failure to complain about the heels.

They were interesting implications, alright?

"I, see." However was he supposed to deal with this? "Sirius, there is absolutely nothing wrong with men wearing dresses and the implication that it is wrong is simply sexism. That said, Arabella it is extremely bad manners to force anyone to cross dress against their will, particularly in such an unsuitable dress."

Dark eyes narrowed and Arabella folded her arms in the way that pushed up her breasts to reveal a threatening amount of cleavage. Remus still wasn't sure just how an exposed bust could seem dangerous, but Arabella had, somehow, made it possible.

"That 'es ma' dress, Remas."

His really name, abet incorrectly pronounced, rather than the nickname of 'husky that she had bestowed upon him. And he had just inadvertently insulted the Black Widows dress sense. Oh dear.

"I am sure that it looks lovely on you." Said Harry from the door he had, somehow, opened without anyone noticing. "However Sirius does not have the skin tone to pull that shade off. Perhaps a deeper colour?"

Oh thank goodness, back up. At this point Remus didn't actually care that his male adolescent ward was encouraging cross dressing.

"Mm…" Arabella paused to consider Sirius, her gaze intent. "You mee' 'ave ah point. Per'aps plum? Or red? Tch! Ah do not 'ave ze' colours!"

"I have no doubt that you will work something out." Said Harry comfortingly. "Now, if you will excuse me, I find myself in need of a bucket."

Naturally the three adults were peering though the doorway the moment that Harry was out of sight, and it was slightly alarming to see that a clear licquid was peering from a widening hole in the base of the caldron and the, seemingly, vanishing. It took them a moment to work out that it was eating though the stone floor.

"What is under this room?"

"Er… Torture chamber, nothing explosive in it." Sirius tipped his head and frowned at the scene. "What good is a bucket going to do here?"

"'oo can say? Ah am not prepared to ask."

Slytherin sensibilities were strange and mysterious things, but Remus could not take issue with her instincts in the slightest. The way that Harry fled from a mass of foam shortly after returning with a full bucket of what looked like chalk down after the potion only reinforced the fact that he Did Not Want To Know.

Xxxxxxxx

The long term ward always seemed to be quiet when they came to visit, like some bright church of non or barely responsive worshipers, disturbed only sometimes by the hushed footsteps of the medic-preists. Visitors were alien outsiders in this quiet realm, and sometimes Neville wondered if that was why the sedate long term patients received so few visitors.

The noisy ones, who screamed and raged and cursed always, seemed to have people around. His mother was rarely without a medic, but here the only activity came at meal times, and sometimes Neville wondered if his father ever left his vacant state long enough to get lonely.

Frank Longbottom was slowly playing solitaire on his small table when they arrived. His collage of old photos, newspaper cuttings and sweet wrappers had expanded again, and the collection of potted plants that Neville had painstakingly taught his father how to care for had all survived another year at St Mungos.

For a moment Neville hugged the miniature rose he carried, wishing it well and stealing himself for what was to come.

It took two and a half hours. Time enough for Augusta to end a visit to Alice and trust Neville to make his own way home. Time enough for the medi-wizzard to go though once. Time enough that Neville couldn't help but run from his father's terrible slowness as soon as the lesson was finished.

He kinda hated himself for doing that, but it was never enough to stop him from doing it the next time they came here.

"You look like shit.

Neville raised his head just enough to squint at the speaker.

"Ron? What are you doing here?" He frowned slightly. "You've grown."

"I have inherited the tall genes." Ron beamed, absurdly pleased by Neville's disapproval. "Soon I will be as tall as Percy! Or taller! Your gran turned up and made pointy comments. And have I mentioned that you look like shit?"

"Ya did."

"Well, do something about it them. Where's your brother? Isn't this sort of thing supposed to be his job?"

Neville took a moment to try an work out what Ron was talking about and then gave up.

"He's unconscious. There was an explosion a couple of days ago."

"…He blew himself up?"

"Well, yeah, but only a little bit."

Ron cackled insanely for a little while, and Neville couldn't help but smile.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Luna peered at her cousin thoughtfully, ensuring that whatever potions had been administered held him deeply asleep before she carefully wound the necklace of butterbeer corks around the fingers of one limp hand. Not only would it ward of the nargles that she suspected were responsible for Indigos little accident, it would also help to deter any comparisons to fairytale princesses that might be made. It couldn't be helped really, Indigo was just to pretty, and his long hair did nothing to dispel the slight femininity of his features. But, if he had to be a fairytale princess he could at least be a princess untroubled by nargle induced muddle headedness.

Fairytale princesses were particularly vulnerable to nargles, it was why they were all so hopelessly silly and Luna would not permit Indigo to fall victim to such a thing.

"Er, Luna? What's with the necklace?"

"It will ward off nargles."

Luna blinked mistily at Jackie, and he hovered in the doorway like a perplexed could for a moment, before shrugging and coming in.

"Well, okay then. Is he showing any signs of waking up?"

"No. Why is he still asleep anyway?"

"Hm? Oh, Ma put him in a healing trance after he blew up his lab." Jackie huffed softly as he checked Indigo's pulse. "Daft boy. But it was bound to happen sooner or later."

Luna hummed a little in answer and slipped silently from the room, leaving Jackie and the sleeper behind.

The workroom, scorched and scuffed and half coated in ashes, it's heavy and heavily warded door resting apologetically against the opposite door, a few tools stuck in the surviving furniture at strange angles, though that could have been Indigo's doing rather than an effect of the blast. But did Indigo really need to make his tendency towards over kill so obvious? The burns on the ceiling would have been quite sufficient.

The scabbard was where she had known it would be, the dragon hide gloves ill fitting but serviceable and the sword, which lay oh so casually upon a suspiciously clean patch of the stone floor, buzzed with the barely trapped strength of a hurricane. Being too close to it made her shiver as an unfelt wind stole the warmth from her flesh.

Sheaving it, an act of supreme care, performed without actually touching the blade, helped, but Luna wrapped the weapon in damp towels before leaving anyway, just to be sure.

It was a perilous thing she carried, after all.

Xxxxxxxxx

Bill Weasley lounged in the garden, watched the clouds go past and pondered upon the general confusion of his family.

Percy was getting married, which was unexpected but nice, and Mum was less then happy about it, despite how much she wanted then all to sit down and that she seemed to sort of approve of Penelope Clearwater. The entire wedding was being paid for by Ron's group of crazy purebloods, who were also the Twins and Percy's but mostly Ron's. Also the Twins were, as far as he could tell, dating a half fey boy in between conducting mysterious experiments in their room. It was all a bit strange, sure they all seemed fairly happy with the situation but it was still pretty damn weird.

"Good afternoon, William."

He manfully didn't squeak, but it was a near run thing.

"Luna would you please not sneak up on me like that."

She gave him one of those endless stares she was so good at.

"My apologies, I did not intend to sneak."

Somehow the fact that she sounded like she meant that made it worse. Fortunately she was carrying a distraction, and Bill nodded gratefully towards the buddle that was leaving damp patches on her dress.

"What's that?"

"It belongs to Ronald, I must take it to him. Do you know where he might be found?"

"Er, I think he's by the pond with Neville."

"Thank you William. Good day."

"Good day Luna."

She drifted off in the general direction of the pond, and left Bill shaking his head at her back. Luna was weird and misty and talked about all sorts of bizarre things, but she was harmless and hard not to like.

It was then that he realised that she had avoided his question.

Xxxxxxxxxx

The sun was high, the air was still and Neville was crouched next to the pond with a few gnomes, annoying the tadpoles, which were probably froglets or toadlets by now but whatever. Considering how the day had started Ron though it was a pretty decent state of affairs.

"Good day Ronald."

"Hey Luna."

"Hi Luna!"

Neville gave her a huge smile, and Luna gave him a small but intense smile in return, sweet and secretive.

Ohhh. Ron had no clue what was going on with them but he wanted in.

"This is yours." stated Luna firmly, dislodging one of her towels from her long bundle as she held it out to him. "You must take it and keep it and permit no other to wield it."

Ron opened his mouth to question her, and then shut it again on see the way she was looking at him. Luna was normally about as focused as a happy stoner, but the normal dreamyness had hardened and sharpened into something you would expect to see in the politicians' who were just tough enough to be really good at their jobs and it seemed best not to argue with her at this point.

The damp towels seemed to buzz under his hands, and fell off the pacage weirdly easily for bits of soggy material.

The scabbard was beautiful, in its way, gleaming red enamel and a delicate tracery of gold symbols, but the buzzing was stronger now, and he didn't spend too much time examining it before drawing the sword.

The grip was long enough for a double handed swing, there were stones he didn't recognise in the pommel and guard, the blade straight and double edged in the European fashion but it had an edge that looked like it would make a katana cry, and the metal had a curious, incandescent sheen.

He could feel the magic in it, a wild note, clear and sharp and as dangerous as a tsunami in a box, ready to break free and tear into him, but then it stilled for a moment and curled about him instead as his magic meshed with that of the sword.

It was dangerous and beautiful and his. And Neville took one look at Ron's grin and backed up a bit.

A careful flick of the wrist sent a ripple along the blade and Ron's grin widen to previously unknown levels of manic as an unseen arch of air snapped from the tip and cleanly sliced a dozen tendrils from the weeping willow at the other end of the pond.

Bill moved slowly to look over Ron's shoulder at the leaves drifting on the water and the sword that had put them there.

"Mum is going to _kill_ me."

* * *

><p>Next chapter (probably) : Special occasions ( and reasons to hate them)<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Sum: Tournaments, politics crossdressing, weapons and too many cousins. The TriWizard Tournament at Hogwarts, because they can't have a peaceful year. Yoai, yuri, het, language, violence, etc.

Lotus seed: Harry dumped chalk in acid, and Molly will kill Bill

unkNOWcat: I know, it took forever. I got hit by Red Cliff -awesom movies, very worth watching- plot bunnies and my muse was playing silly buggars again.

Sandy Anderson: I RETURN! MWAHAHA! -ahem- Your english is fine, save for an occationaly odd use of apostrophys... I think I spelt that wrong...

Apostrophia: Get a strong acid, drop some chalk in at and Harry and his buckt will make more sence. Arabella Figgg, uh, opps? I forgot about her...

lordamnesia: Yes sir!

FallenHope-Angel: Just don't glomp me while I'm typing and we'll be fine.

silverchildakami: Cheers.

Silver-Moon-Light94: And their is more weaponary to come!

Firehedgehog: Evilness. Pure evilness.

ShadowsofNyx: Have fun.

**AUTHORS NOTE: **Have recently been caught by the epic of Red Cliff, directed by John Woo, which is made of awesom and deserves fanfiction. Anyone with 5 hours to spare -since its also really freaking long, can find the fist part at .tv/movies/view/red-cliff . I challenge you to write!

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><p>Special occasions (and reasons to hate them)<p>

The Brides tent was quiet, the scissors passed constantly from hand to hand and the bride was ticked off.

"Would somebody please tell me why we are having such a large wedding?"

"We have three families and the Hit Squad to fit in." said Oliver slowly, his voice muffled by the pens in his mouth. "And your mother threatened to cry if we didn't."

Penelope considered the little pouch of sugared almonds that were, apparently, completely vital to the proceedings, and sighed deeply.

"I expect that she will cry anyway. Mothers do that, at weddings. It's some sort of law of parents."

"Yes, but crying with intent is different. Sort of pointed and threatening in a weird way."

Percy glanced up from the scales for a moment and hummed his agreement.

"Father's do that as well." mused Hannah, curling a bit of ribbon in a practiced, mechanical sort of way. "Or mine does at least. It may just be him."

"We should stand up them more." Growled Penelope, glowing at the almonds dangerously. "What is the point of these blasted things anyway?"

"They make you look posh." Stated Susan, glaring malevolently at the world in general. "Neville, If you eat one more of those I shall staple your hands to the wall, be warned."

"I was just-"

"I know very well what you were doing, not go and help Hazel with the gilt."

"I thought Harry was doing that." Murmured Penelope, watching Neville slump away from the corner of her eye. "It was on the list."

"Jackie, Tracy and Hermione stole him to help them move the flower arrangements."

"I see. Hypothetically, what would happen if we decided to elope?"

"I think I would have to murder you all for not making that decision two hours ago."

"That does seem reasonable."

It was at this point that the more serpentine members of the Hit Squad stumbled into the tent in a rather odd assortment of muggle clothing, flashy jewellery and improbable shoes. Everyone in the area promptly stopped working in order to glare at them.

"Give me one good reason not to hurt you." demanded Susan, her voice scarily even.

"We spent the last three days arguing with goblins." offered Flare meekly.

"Please recall that I know you. You enjoy arguing."

"There are limits."

Flare shushed Yuki with a waved hand, still watching Susan.

"The mess would no doubt be terrible, you would get blood on the property deed and we managed to highjack a three tire fruitcake on our way in."

"Nobody wanted fruitcake. We actually specified that there was to be no fruitcake."

"Someone did not get the message, but that is not going to matter because we destroyed it."

"Hm." Susan considered them for a few moments, with special attention to Millicent who was teetering precariously on ridiculous heels, supported by her blond housemates. "Well, alright then. Come and help me with these bag things."

"Sir yes sir!"

""Excuse me." Percy waved a hand. "Property deed?"

"We brought you a house." stated Yuki blithely. "Millie, are you sinking?"

"I. Hate. These. Shoes."

Hannah peered curiously at them as the blondes helped Millicent to a chair.

"Did you really blow yourself up?"

"Only a little bit. Hardly worth mentioning." Indigo settled opposite her, ignoring Yuki's disbelieving snort. "What are you doing?"

"Making gift bags for the guests. I am starting to hate them, we've been at it for hours."

"Why not just buy them in?"

"Apparently we can't just throw money at everything." said Oliver, tone indicating his feelings about that.

"Well no, but for everything else there's cutlery."

There was a brief silence, broken only by Yuki overbalancing as she final succeeded in getting one of the ridiculous shoes off Millicent's feet.

"What?" asked Millicent, staring straight back at them. "It works, doesn't it?"

"Why do I feel as though I have just walked into a Master Card commercial?" asked Hermione of the world in general, a vaguely disapproving look on her face. "Stop playing around and come and help me with the caterers. Someone threw a fruitcake into a tree and now the cooks are throwing a wobbly. "Who ordered fruitcake anyway?"

"A mystery for the ages." Percy unfolded himself, wincing as mussels that had been still too long protested the movement. "Where are they hiding the forks?"

"Oh. Poor caterers."

"Fruitcake, Hannah, fruitcake."

"I take your point."

"Ahem." Penelope gave the Huffelpuffs a reproving look, and then fixed her attention on the Slytherins. "What is all this nonsense about your buying us a house?"

"I assure you, there is nothing nonsensical about it." Flare gave wide eyed innocence a shot, and shrugged philosophically when it fell flat. "It's a very nice house, we'll have it warded up for you in no time."

"That's nice Flare, but I distinctly recall placing a spending cap on any and all wedding gifts, and a house would be rather beyond that level."

"Well, it's from all of us."

Penelope raised an incredulous eye brow, and Flare shifted uncomfortably.

"Weeellllll, you know that muggles don't have a gold based economy anymore?"

"I had been informed of such, yes."

"Great! Did you know that the goblins never got that memo? Because they didn't. At all."

There was a thoughtful silence as this was considered.

"I thought you liked goblins?" said Susan, mildly perplexed.

"I do." Indigo shrugged. "Just not when they're trying to screw my sister out of her inheritance."

"Well, alright them. Hand me the scissors."

Xxxxxxxxx

The ceremony had been beautiful, the food was excellent, the music was as good as could be expected at a wedding and every member of the Hit Squad other then the newlyweds were lurking unobtrusively near the exits in a probably futile attempt to avoid the numerous crying parents and the various elderly relations who talked loudly about how lovely weddings were and cooed threateningly at everyone.

Aging relatives were scary in previously unknown ways, and it seemed safest just to stay far, far away from them.

"Oh, how utterly adorable-"

Ron, who had broken cover to find something to eat, disregarded what little dignity he had and dove behind a flower arrangement, only to collide with the current occupants of the hiding place.

"Ouff!"

"Ow!"

"Shit, shit. Sorry hide me. Are you okay Nev?"

"Grandma's looking all tearful and I don't know why!"

Ron, who had know Madam Longbottom for long enough to know that she just did not do tearful, whimpered in sympathy.

"That's just wrong!"

Susan and Flare exchanged looks of confusion, and then shrugged in unison, apparently deciding that they didn't really care. It made Ron snicker a bit because, well, just because.

"So, what are you guys hiding from?"

"Auntie Amelia was talking to somebody's great aunt and Lady Zabini was cooing at her puppies." Susan shrugged. "Frankly, it seemed safest to avoid everyone after that. Though I have absolutely no idea how we haven't been notice yet, the flower arrangement isn't that big."

"Oh, Ma-ji always puts Notice Me Not charms on the hiding places." Flare responded to their surprise with mild exasperation. "Well she has had seven weddings, she knows the dangers by now."

The various responses that could have been given to that statement were thankfully discarded when Harry walked into Ron's back.

"Hey!"

"Ow, er sorry, how..?"

"Notice Me Not charms."

"Ah, yes, excellent." Harry rubbed his face, a grimace lingering around his mouth, which Neville eyed curiously.

"I thought Ginny was gettin' better?"

"As did I. She appears to have regressed and, well, your various relations are not exactly helping matters Ron."

"Sorry man, there's no stopping them."

"Yes, I am starting to realise that."

"Look, it could be worse. At least no-one has any ex-in laws to turn up and try to maim people." Flare received some very odd looks. "It happens, okay?"

"I think that I am going to do an ex-boyfriend search."

"I'll come!"

"I'll go find Millie, she'll help."

"The trio scarpered. Flare watched them go with a rueful air, and then turned to look at Harry, who smiled slightly in response.

"Your mother's marital history is not more frightening than Ginny Weasly. That said, if she intends to marry my godfathers I will treat it with due suspicion."

"I thought they were together?"

"And your point is..?"

"Touché."

Xxxxxxxxx

Arabella Zabini observed the wedding party with a certain wistful contentment. The house would be quiet again now, with Percy gone forever into the arms of his beloveds, and he would be happy. She could see it in the way they danced, clasped hands and stolen kisses and laughter as the trinity struggled to co-ordinate.

She had been that happy once, that in love. What did her Conrad think of her now? He was avenged, but his had never been a vengeful nature.

"You're supposed to be basking in their joy, you know that?" Indigo stopped beside her with the settled air of one who would not be moved. "I am reasonably certain that's the point of all this. All of the meaningful things are done with but we demand that they hang around so that everyone can sap off as much good feeling as possible to take home with them."

"Ah cynical poin' ah view, ma twilight boy."

"I call it like I see it, Ma-ji."He looked at her sideways, tilted his head slightly, as though listening to something, and smiled sadly. "You are allowed to be happy, you know. They like you too."

"Ah feel tha' ah am betrayin' ma 'usband."

"He has been dead for thirteen years, and it isn't as though you have to marry them. "Do you even want to?"

She thought about it for a while. Marriage.

It had been a beautiful ceremony, the grace of the oldest ways where obedience was not considered, their love was show though their promises to kill one anothers enemies and magic made the bonds and sealed them in scars rather than easily removable rings. The old power, where blood mingled and stuck earth. It was perfect.

Arabella had wed that way once, with love and blood and fearlessness, but she had been young then, and much had changed since her husband died.

"Ah don' know. "

"Then stop worrying about it."

Sound advice, in its way.

"An wha' are you worryin' abou', ma twilight boy. Ah know you are."

He smiled, all sharp edges and bittersweet strength.

"Things are about to go horribly wrong, Ma-ji, and can feel the storm coming." He stilled, and softened slightly. "Your wolf is looking for you. He's by the cake, and I think the puppy is hyper."

"Tha' soun's like fun." She touched his face, offering strength, and it spoke much of his exhaustion that he leaned into the touch and let her twin a thread of her power about the embers of his strength. "We still 'ave choices."

"I know." The marks of tensions around his eyes, what did Indigo know that she didn't? "Go on, your canines await you."

The sounds of Sirius getting into trouble reached them and Arabella bounced towards the chaos, Indigo snickering quietly behind her.

Trouble would come when it wanted too, until then there was fun and mayhem and her puppies, and Indigo needed someone trying to protect him about as much as he needed a hole in the head.

What had her puppy done now?

Xxxxxxxx

The ghost of the wedding party lingered in crumbs and dropped petal and the general clatter of the caterers clearing away. Maybe all parties ended like this, with the ghost of something lovely.

"Deam." Hannah nudged him, gentle but firm. "Give it to them now."

"Um…"

"Now, Dean."

Alright then. Now.

"Um, Percy? Yeah, um, this is for you guys." He held out the scroll of parchment, hot around the ears under the gentle scrutiny of the newlyweds. "Um, late wedding present."

Penelope took it carefully, and unrolled it with the air of someone utterly perplexed. Then Oliver gasped.

"That's us, isn't it?" murmured Percy softly. "Our colours."

"…yeah."

He had drawn them in colored chalks, starting the moment the ceremony ended and only pausing to drink a little during the party, because the colors had been so lovely and he thought they should know about it. Naturally it was only after the picture was finished that Dean realized that it might freak them out a bit.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"This is beautiful. Thank you."

Oh, well then. Thank goodness for that.

It could have turned into a moment, but Harry stuck his head into the tent and gave them a vaguely irked look.

"Please control the sappiness. We are trying to make the chief see reason and the sudden increase is making Indigo look vacant, which is not at all helpful." He then eyed the newlyweds darkly, and sighed. "Why are you still here? You are honeymooners now. Go and, honeymoon."

"Yeah." muttered Oliver, half laughing. "Yeah, let's do that."

* * *

><p>Next time, the gods of fanfic willing:Quiditch and Confusion<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Sum: Tournaments, politics crossdressing, weapons and too many cousins. The TriWizard Tournament at Hogwarts, because they can't have a peaceful year. Yoai, yuri, het, language, violence, etc.

lordamnesia: Yeah, I think the rest will have to elope.

Kitsune Twins: Indgo, Harry, Ron, Neville, Susan. Hannah, Herione, Tracy, Yuki, Flare, Millicent, Hazel, Julien, Jackie, Fred, George and Percy are all Hit Squad Members. Penelope and Oliver are sort of Honary members. Alysandra, Colin, Eric and Luna are part of teh Munchkin army. The Defenders of Anarchy are mostly unknown, but Indigo is a member.

unkNOWncat: Cool.

Silver-Moon-Light94: Cheers.

Sandy Anderson: Yeah, think I lost a word there, sorry. And how is this mob going to find my doorstep?

Firehedgehog: Stop her getting it. More on that latter.

Lotus seed: Just some ajustments to spelling and gramer.

Yumi li: Cheers.

* * *

><p><span>Quidditch and Confusion <span>

Luna looked up slowly and with absolutely no surprise, and accepted the simple package with the regal grace of a queen accepting tribute. She unwrapped the two fans slowly, considering the hum of the spell craft, the delicacy of the engraving and the simple lopes of beads, jade on one and pearl on the other. He knew her well enough to choose them for her, and these were beautiful.

The she snapped one open, saw herself reflected in the mirror sign on the blades and smiled. Yes, they were beautiful, in their simplicity, their stark elegance, but they were also undoubtedly sharp enough to split hairs.

She closed it, flipped it across her fingers and smiled again.

"My skills are imperfect."

"There is still time to learn."

There was, the storm had not reached them yet.

"I will make use of them, when the time comes."

Indigo smiled slightly, eyelashes lowered to hide his exhaustion, but utterly unable to hide the dark smudges beneath his eyes. Luna sighed softly, brushing a light touch across his face.

"We have time, cousin, you need not arm us all before summers end.

"I can try. I want it done by midwinter's but some are tricky and-"he yawned, and tried to blink sleep away. "-sorry, I don't know what to make for everyone."

She pressed her fingertips to his temples, trying to smooth away the migraine she could see building in his eyes.

"Hannah will need a staff, Yuki a bow, Julian needs armour, the Nutters will make their own tricks and Millicent will want a battle axe. Dean and Flare have no place on the battle field and Susan will accept no gift."

He nodded against her hands and slowly pulled away from her touch.

"Ron is coming to see you, and I must deliver this hammer while I still know where Hermione is. Will I see you at the Quidditch cup?"

"No. Father has heard news of a Humperdinck nest in Milton Keens. We shall be investigating it."

He nodded his understanding and rose, walking back towards the house and the floo gate in the living room.

"Indigo? Does it help?"

"…Not so as that you'd notice."

It was the answer that she had expected, but not the one that she had wanted.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"QUIDDITCH!"

Harry raised his head from his book and watched, bemused, as Sirius charged though the sitting room, still howling the name of his favourite sport. His confusion only increased as his dogfather repeated the process, this time going in the other direction and followed by Kreacher, who seemed to be jumping onto the crazy bandwagon at last.

"QUIDDITCH!"

Contrary to popular belief Sirius didn't spend all that much running around screaming random words, unless Arabella was cheering him on, so Harry quickly concluded that something interesting was going on and went to find Remus, on the grounds that while he could make Sirius explain, the fuss probably wouldn't be worth it.

Remus was in the kitchen, having abandoned his normal haunt in the library in favour of frowning vaguely at the much scared table on which they ate their meals. Harry poked him.

"Remus, has Sirius gotten into the sugar again?"

"Hm? Oh, no. He managed to get tickets for the Quidditch world cup. Its Ireland vs Bulgaria and we have excellent seats."

"You seem, unexpectedly unenthusiastic about the prospect."

"The matches have been known to, draw out rather, and it starts two days before the full moon." His mouth formed an unhappy twist. "Sirius tends to forget about it."

"Ah." Harry considered it for a moment, and then shrugged." "Well, it the match lasts that long you can always apparate home before the moon rises. Now, stop making yourself depressed and come and help me with the animagus potion."

"Harry. We have discussed this before, no. You're too young."

"Sirius says I can."

"Sirius is irresponsible, and also extremely bad at potions."

Harry huffed, and gave his godfather-in-law a dirty look.

"I shall find that recipe, Mr Lupin, and then I shall moult on you."

Something in the imperious set of his shoulders made Remus wonder if 'moult' was a euphemism for 'pour horrible acids' but Harry swept out before he could ask.

Xxxxxxxxx

Ludo Bagman was not having the best of days. He'd had a pointed note from the goblins and an argument with the security people and an old gambling friend had shown up unexpectedly and he was almost certain that the sod had seen him. It had been a nerve wracking experience.

But things were looking up already. There was Weasley, and the friendly loon had a kettle and a pack of easily diverted teenagers. Jackpot!

"Ahoy there! Arthur old man, what a day, eh? It'll be a cloudless night, I can tell, and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements. There's not much for me to do!" He flung himself down on the patch of grass Arthur waved him towards and beamed at the assorted young people. "Morning all!"

The twins grinned back at him, but the bushy haired girl looked past him with a faint frown, and the dark skinned boy exchanged a glance with one of Arthur's lads that culminated in a small, but disquietingly definite shake of his head. Those two, muggle born's by the look of them, could prove difficult.

"Ah, yes, um. These are my sons, Bill, Charlie, Fred, no, sorry George, that's Fred, Ron, my daughter Ginny and Ron's friends Hermione Granger and Dean Thomas. Percy, my other son, would be with us but he's off on his honeymoon at the moment. Everyone, this is Ludo Bagman, it's thanks to him that we have such good tickets…"

Ludo gave them his best grin, and threw in a dismissive wave for good measure. He liked Arthur well enough to hand over the tickets with reasonable cheer, and it never hurt to encourage the next generation anyway, you never knew what they might come up with. Speaking of which…

"Fancy a flutter on the match Arthur? I've already got Roddy Panter betting me Bulgaria will score first- I offered him nice odds on that, considering that Ireland has the strongest three I've seen in years- and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a weeklong match."

And what a nice little earner those could be. He had no idea how the business was so profitable, what was the point of eels anyway?

"Oh, go on then. Let's say, a galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A galleon?" A paltry sum, but, well, he did have his ridiculously large family to support; it was only fair that he was careful. "Very well. Any other takers?"

"We bet thirty seven-"

"No you don't." The Granger girl cut the twins off before they could really get started. Oddly the duo didn't snap at her to mind her own business, as Ludo would have, but obediently froze and stared at her, their heads at the same quizzical angle.

"Why don't-"

"-we Mia?"

"Because I say so, and I know where you two will be sleeping tonight. Alright?"

"Alright. But we will bet 5 galleons -"

"-and a fake wand that Ireland -"

"-win but Victor Krum gets the snitch."  
>Well, that was a certain profit. Pity that the girl had intervened, but that fake wand was marvellous anyway. Best he'd seen.<p>

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! Worth another few galleons on the bet that is!"

The boys gave him a single look of contented pride. Must be their own invention.

"Boys…" Arthur gave them a worried look. "I don't want you betting, that's a fair sum, and your mother…"

"Don be a spoilsport Arthur! They're old enough to know what they want!" It was only 5 galleons anyway. "Ireland win but Krum'll get the snitch? Not a chance boys, not a chance. I'll give you excellent odds on that, and, let's say 5 galleons for the funny wand, mm?"

He could almost hear Arthur's helpless disapproval, but the twins gave him wicked grins as they accepted the slip, and he couldn't help but return it. Oh, he liked these two.

"Any chance of a brew Arthur? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch, my opposite number is after something and I don't understand a word he says. Barty will sort it out, he speaks about 150 languages."

"I heard that it was over 200." murmured a slim girl with chestnut hair, who drifted past him without as much as a glance, and then curled herself around Granger like an affectionate snake. "Good morning Weasley, Dean."

"Tracy, it's wonderful to see you! I thought that you weren't coming!"

"I wasn't, but then Yuki kidnapped me for moral support."

Granger gave her friend a tight hug, and laughed in a way that suggested that random kidnappings were perfectly acceptable behaviour from this Yuki. Odd.

"Mr Bagman, this is my friend Tracy Davis. Tracy, Ludo Bagman."

The girls' cool stare was inexplicably alarming.

"Morning!"

"Good morning."

"Any news of Bertha Jenkins yet, Ludo?" asked Arthur, handing over a cup of tea with a distracted air.

"Not a thing, but she'll turn up. Poor Bertha, no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it."

"Isn't someone looking for her? She could be in trouble." The youngest boy was frowning, all foolish worry.

"Barty keeps saying that, but we can't spare anyone-" As though summoned by the mention of his name, Crouch cracked into existence at the fire side. "Barty, speak of the devil! Have a patch of grass!"

"No, Ludo. Where have you been? The Bulgarians are insisting that we add another thirteen seats to the Top Box."

"Oh, is that what their after?"

He pulled his most innocent expression, which cut no ice with Barty, and smiled when the kids snickered.

"Hmpth. Hello Arthur. Ali Bashir's looking for you, on the warpath about the embargo on flying carpets."

"Oh really, I've told him a thousand times, they are muggle artefacts but will he listen?"

"Apparently not. Come along Ludo."

"I've not finished-" Ludo caught the glare Barty threw at him, and obediently put down his cup. "Alright. See you later Arthur!"

Barty caught his wrist and apparated them away before he could finish waving.

Xxxxxxxxx

Neville was bouncing as they walked through the woods, an expression of delighted glee on his face, despite the way his Grandmother kept clicking her tongue at him. That was fine anyway, she was happy as well, she just acted grumpy because that was what everyone expected of her.

"Harry! HarryHarryHarry!" He charged over and glomped his friend, and was glomped in turn by the over excited dogfather. "We're in the Top Box! You are as well, right? Have you seen Indigo? He's around somewhere but he feels all fuzzy so I dunno where somewhere is!"

"Hello Nevile, it's so nice to see you. How has your summer been?"

Neville released the source of wry amusement for a moment, grinned at Harry's expression and dragged him towards the stadium.

"You have new scars on your hands, what happened?"

"There were a few little explosions." murmured Harry, a faint blush sneaking onto his face. "The healers tell me that the scars will have faded completely within a few weeks."

That was kinda interesting, but not as interesting as the little argument that was going on behind them as they approached the stadium entrance.

"Moony, why would I have the tickets?"

"You insisted Sirius."

"Are you sure of that?"

"**Yes**."

"Are you sure that I'm sure?"

"Nobody is ever sure of you Black." Said a low, chocolaty voice, and a pale woman with black hair and eyes walked past them, the slim blond man on her arm smirking. "It would not be healthy."

Sirius sputtered and then pouted as the blond girl bopped him on the head with her fan, much to the amusement of her raven haired companions, and it finally became apparent who they were looking at.

"Oh my. Good evening professor, um, little accident?"

Severus Snape rolled her eyes, ignored Narcissa when he snickered, and sauntered over to the witch taking the tickets, her normal swoop turned into something quite different by the new hips.

Harry caught Indigo's eye, and raised an eyebrow. The blond huffed and glanced at Jackie and Miranda. A questioning tilt of the head was answered with a sneer, which seemed to settle matters as Harry smiled and offered his arm.

"I will bludgeon you with your intestines."

"…Really?"

"…Fair point. Neville's intestines then."

"That does seem more plausible." Harry's smile widened as Indigo haughtily linked arms with him. "Remus, I have the tickets here."

"Oh thank goodness."

The group finally got moving again, and was directed to the Top Box by the witch, who was twitching in a way that suggested that sudden gender realignment had done nothing to decrease Professor Snape's epic scariness.

"Was that normal?" asked Remus, firmly not looking at Jackie's new boson, no matter how artistically it was presented by posture and the blue silk dress. "I have never seen Harry do anything like that before."

"For them that is normal, much to our great confusion." Jackie sighed, and gave her fan a quick flutter. "Well, apart from the arm linking. And the implications of constipation. Those are new."

"Buwha?"

Miranda adjusted his cravat, and gave the gold eyed boy a faintly irritated look.

"Do you know nothing about anatomy? The intestines are just stretchy tubing. The capacity for them to bludgeon implies some quite serious blockages."

"…Eew…"

"Right! So! How did you manage to dose the bat?" asked Sirius, dragging their collective mind away from this frankly icky topic. "Confoundus charm? Alcohol?"

"Nothing so sneaky." Jackie grinned. "We just made the entire potion gaseous."

The looks on Sirius and Remus's faces were positively evil.

"Huh." Neville frowned at nothing. "When'd I start thinkin' in oxymoron's?"

Augusta laughed softly behind her hand.

"I could not hazard a guess."

Xxxxxxxx

Ron clocked Harry the moment that he entered the top box, partly because he was Harry, but mostly due to the very, very pretty blond girl on his arm.

It took serious style to look that good in white and even more serious skills to walk in a petticoat and actually look elegant, but Blondie had somehow managed both. Ron was prepared to approve her for that alone.

Then she turned slightly, the light settling differently on her face, and Ron started cackling into the back of his seat. It took a few moments for everyone else to put the pieces together, but the disgusted snort Ginny let out as soon as she worked it out was well worth the wait.

It also made Indigo stop glaring at Ron like she was about to draw the weapon she undoubtedly had under her skirt in order to smirk at his sister, so, double win.

"That's right, Weaslette. Just say it, you'll feel better."

"A, do not do that you damn Malfoy mind bender. B, your entire existence is an affront to the law of averages, and C." Ginny raised one hand and made a gesture that had Indigo snickering behind her fan. "You are more attractive than me in both genders, you psychotic she-male, and I will steal your pearls in vengeance."

"Just try it, I have a crossbow in my petticoat. Is there a problem, Hermione?"

"Is that fan made of ivory?"

"Of course not." She sounded offended by the very idea.

"…It's made from human bone, isn't it?" asked Harry, clearly reading something that everyone else had missed in the statement.

"I plead the 4th, or possibly the 5th. Whichever is appropriate to refusing to answer."

"Oh, well, that's alright then. Don't look at me like that!" Hermione responded to the scandalised stares with a truly baffling degree of righteous indignation. "Elephants are an endangered species. Humans are anything but!"

"This entire conversation disturbs me immensely." stated Bill, watching them with idle confusion. "Potter, Malfoy, you make a beautiful couple, now please go and sit down before a responsible adult gets involved."

Xxxxxxxx

Narcissa could be called many things, but stupid was not one of them, and one would have to be not only astonishingly stupid but also pretty delusional to miss the signs here.

When ones children could distract adolescent males from a group of Veela, dancing Veela no less, there was nothing to do but accept the connection and start planning the weddings.

Had it been his own children getting distracted it would have meant less. They were largely immune to the effects of not only Veela, but also the other related species that existed across the world. There was a strong strain of succumbs in her bloodline, and while it was mostly dormant it caused a clean rejection all the arts that the succumbi had taught to the sirens. Even Jackie was strongly resistant, not by blood but simple virtue of prolonged exposure to Mellosanyerasi, Indigo's part Veela cousin and Indigo himself, whose capacity to completely crumple peoples common sense might not have been due to the trace of Veela in the Malfoy blood lines, but certainly bore an interesting resemblance to them.

The Weasley twins and Harry Potter had no such resistance, not even the rumoured vampires in the Potter line would provide such, and if they could shake the allure with no greater prompting than their respective companions laughing at them they were probably in love. Or suffering from chronic depression, but that seemed unlikely. Nor would it have prevented the three Quidditch players from becoming engrossed in the match, as was their wont, while the boys were paying at least some attention to their less spotty companions, with Harry and Indigo exchanging the occasional comment and the Twins keeping up a no doubt mocking commentary that had Miranda snickering into his lapel.

Narcissa smiled, and returned his attention to the match just in time to see Lynch crash headlong into the ground.

"Oh my. Really?"

"The silly twit overestimate his reaction speed." Severus snorted, and narrowed her eyes at the Irish seeker. "And his broom. The imbecile shouldn't have fallowed Krum in the first place, it is very clear who is the better flyer."

Narcissa grinned at her husband/wifes scathing tone. She had always enjoyed his bitchery.

"Blast, I've gotten the pronouns mixed up again. This all is terribly confusing at times.

"Quite, I really have no idea how you manage with these hips."

"I could say the same thing dearest, there is something terribly vulnerable about having ones privets dangling around all the time."

"Only because you aren't used to it my love. Bulgaria can't possibly win you know, they simply don't have the chasers."

Narcissa hummed, half listening to Bagman's shouting and watching in perplexed amusement as the Veela turned on the referee. What an utter mess it was.

"Oh, look."

He looked to the seekers, noting the blood streaming from Krum's nose in mild confusion, and spoke with the complete certainty of a woman who could, when she was off the mind to, manifest wings.

"Lynch is going to crash again."

Sure enough, a moment later the Irish seeker crumpled against the dirt from the second time that night as Krum drifted skywards, the snitch trapped in his fist.

"IRELAND WIN! KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – BUT IRELAND WIN! Good lord I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

Narcissa peered at the pitch, doing her best to ignore the screaming masses.

"Veela vs Leprechauns, the true battle. Who shall be victorious?"

"I'd bet on the Veela, but not when they're calming down."

"Oh poot."

Severus gave her a look that was meant to be disapproving, and then gave in and hid her laughter in his shoulder. Narcissa decided to count it as a win. The way that the Bulgarian minister set Jackie, the Twins, Black, his wolf, Miranda, Indigo and Harry laughing was rather nice as well. The way that Fudge was sulking was imply the icing on a rather nice cake.

"Well darling, I think that this has been a simply delightful evening."

"You're just happy because the Veela stampeded."

Narcissa gave her wife/husband her most winsome smile and completely failed to deign it.

* * *

><p>Next time: Death Eaters Don't Learn or Attack of the Lady BAMF's<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Sum: Tournaments, politics crossdressing, weapons and too many cousins. The TriWizard Tournament at Hogwarts, because they can't have a peaceful year. Yoai, yuri, het, language, violence, etc.

xxxcolourguardxx79: Not too long, but I expect it'll be back.

Sandy Anderson: She does and she is. Mia has found her badassery and shall not return.

ShadowsofNyx: You are so lucky my muse is an unbalence little sod, or this would be months away.

Firehedgehog: I can do mpreg as well hun, their are potions for that.

Silver-Moon-Light94: Hear you go. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><span>Death Eaters Don't Learn or Attack of the Lady BAMF's<span>

Miranda had an understanding of psychic dampeners that very few people could hope to match. As a direct result of this knowledge, he really, really hated them. An architect would probably have understood, or a landscape person or an environmental conservation person, someone like that. Building a temporary dam didn't do much to the landscape down river, but when it came down, well that was another matter entirely.

Indigo had taken the dampener, built the dam and any moment now it was going to come down, bringing a storm surge of other people's minds crashing though her head. The torrent would not leave her unscathed.

"You are brooding."

Miranda scowled at his brother/sister in the mirror as Indigo slowly removed the collection of pins and clips that kept her hair in its artistically chaotic style and, more importantly, out of her face.

"The dampener is going to fail any moment now. You should be at home where it's quiet. They always make you ill and there are too many people around."

"And if I had come without taking them I'd be in St Mungo's by now. They are necessary, Mira, and there's no way home until tomorrow. Not even we have a floo link." Indigo caught his eyes, and offered him a faint smile. "There are far less people here than at the stadium, most of them are asleep now, and the ones that are still awake are partying Ireland supporters. It'll be the happiest headache ever. Now turn around. I want to get out of this dress."

"Indigo. You don't have anything I normally don't."

Indigo raised an eyebrow, and Miranda amended the statement appropriately.

"You don't have anything I'm not going to get in a year or so."

"And your cleavage should come as a horrible surprise to you. Turn."

Miranda grumbled indistinctly and rolled to face the wall.

"You'd feel better at home. You know the minds."

"Yes, but their more alert and would have a more diverse state of emotion. Ow."

"What? Did the-"

"No! Calm down, it's just the corset."

Mirada breathed deeply and settled back onto the bed, trying not to bite his lips. This was one of those rare times when his fears wouldn't hurt Indigo, he didn't want to give her reasons to worry.

"I hate not being able to help you."

"I know, Mira." Fingers brushed his shoulder and Mirada rolled so his brother/sister, now in night clothes and a dressing gown, could pull him to his feet. "You help more than you know. Come on, Jackie will panic if we don't come soon, and might I mention how much that annoys me?"

Mirada held onto the hand as they walked though their stupidly large tent, which could quite comfortably have held three times their little group, keeping track of his sibling by physical contact now that the normal, gentle pressure of Indigo's mind was held back. Jackie, also more comfortably dressed, was waiting for them in the informal sitting room.

Miranda was sort of annoyed by the existence of the informal sitting room, and felt much the same way about the formal dining room and the six en-suit bathrooms. This was a tent, purchased by some distant ancestor, which spent the vast majority of its time in their attack. According to the ads Indigo had collected from the muggle estate agents it was nicer than most people's houses, and if they were lying the world had gone very wrong somewhere.

"Indigo, are you …"

She trailed off under Indigo's stare.

"I am fine. It's not going to wear off for another," she turned and eyed the clock suspiciously. "seven minutes. Stop twitching."

"There are about thirty thousand minds out there. I am worrying about you."

"Well, stop it." Indigo eyed the sofas with the dubious air of someone who had actually used regency furniture, and laid claim to the less dignified but considerably better padded chaise lounge. "It is a supremely useless exercise. Hello Ma, I thought you were going to be out late."

"We changed our minds." stated Narcissa, holding the door for his husband/wife with a perfectly bland expression. "It's so noisy out."

As if to emphasis the point Severus opened a window to let in the previously muffled noise of the party still going on outside. An exchange of eyebrow movements ensued, and then ended when Indigo huffed at them.

"Are you going to sulk when I don't faint?"

"No." stated Narcissa, still bland. "I'm going to make you play chess."

The scream covered Indigo's response.

"What on earth...?"

Miranda ignored his parents, for it was at that moment that the seven minutes ended and the dampeners, in accordance with the commands of the all powerful Murphy, failed.

Indigos eyes widen, then rolled back as she convulsed against the upholstery.

Miranda pinned his brother/sister as best as she could, sitting on the failing legs and caching her face, trying, though force of simple proximity and sheer bloody mindedness to chase out the panicking minds, to haul Indigo into her head and hold him there until it was safe to come out.

For a moment it seemed to have worked, the sense of Indigo's mind a tangible weight against her own, but then is slipped from his grasp and the next convulsions were so strong that Severus, larger and stronger than her eldest child, had to take over the task of stopping Indigo tossing himself to the floor.

"Severus, I think it's Death Eaters. They wear the hoods, and I've seen those spells before."

"Then they won't attack us. Get a bucket or something, there's a probability that he'll vomit."

Miranda went still, detached for a moment, from the shouting and the screams, from the panic on her parent's faces and Jackie's quiet desperation and the thrashing, shaking figure trapped against the couch. Then a ragged sound tore itself from Indigo's throat, and the world quietly refocused.

He was her brother. Hers to love and argue with and prank and bully into silly clothes and remind to eat and talk to in the middle of the night and haul out of his lab and insult stupid people with. This was her brother, who she loved more than was probably normal, and they were hurting him.

Death Eaters. The ones who had lacked the convictions to stand beside their master, the ones who were to haughty to confess their mistake when he fell and was proven wrong. They attacked randomly, no cause to stand by, just a mad attempt to relieve their pathetic idea of glory days. They had gotten away with it before and assumed that they would again.

And they were hurting her brother. They were going to bleed for that, she would make sure of it.

Xxxxxxxx

Katie Bell was often dismissed by her housemates, to quiet and to thoughtful to fit in the Gryffindor common room, despite her place on the Quidditch team.

But she had very little tolerance for bullies, and faced with a cluster of Death Eaters, a field full of useful hiding places and a good selection of nice sized stones she resolved to make good use of the strength granted by many, many hours of training and make her displeasure known to the masses.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Mother? Is everything alright, I thought I heard-"

"It's nothing, darling. Go back to your friend, least she feel neglected."

Yuki frowned, reading the lie in her mother's stance and, looking closer now, saw the birth of bruises around her wrist, the marks where someone with large hands had grabbed to hard and held to tight.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Alright, if it's nothing. Goodnight mother."

"Good night, dearest."

Yuki returned to the room she shared with Tracy with perfectly even steps, put on some sensible shoes and laced her arm guards with hands that did not shake in the slightest. Then she opened the wardrobe, pulled out the bow and quiver that Indigo had given her and settled it across her back.

Tracy, already in practical, dark clothing observed this in silence as she slipped her wand into a wrist holder.

"It appears to be Death Eaters, the robes and the masks are present."

"Yes." Yuki stung her bow, tested the tension and contemplated her father's absence. "I thought it might be."

They left, not speaking, and carefully avoiding the room where Lady Greengrass sat and quietly cried.

Xxxxxxxxx

Arabella had been having a nice evening until the screaming started. Honestly, why did the mayhem have to begin just as her son stopped treating her puppies like stepfathers to be (aka walking corpses) and Harry stopped interrogating her? So awkward.

"What on earth?"

"Maybe something went wrong, I heard fireworks earlier…"

She stood.

"Si' down boys, ah'll go an 'ave a look. Play nice."

Her puppies started complaining that it wasn't safe for her to go alone, and Harry frowned worriedly until Flare curtly reminded them that she was the Black Widow, and was quite capable of taking care of herself.

Her baby boy was so sensible, and had probably seen her palm the poppet and a pin on her way out. She was ever so proud of him.

Now, to find these pesky people who had disturbed her evening.

Xxxxxxxxx

Mr Weasley had sent them to the woods and Hermione, seeing the sense behind the order, had gone. But now she had lost track of Dean and Ron, she had twigs in her hair and the scream from the campsite had, if anything, gotten louder.

It was certainly not the first time she had faced Death Eaters, the Ministry could hardly expect the restriction on underage magic to apply now and, and Tracy was back there.

Well, it wasn't such a difficult decision after all.

Hermione turned, unhooked the little pendant from her necklace and walked back towards the camp, resting her battle hammer on one shoulder as it regained its full size. She'd wanted to test it out anyway. Indigo assured her it would come back if she threw it at someone, and the way its weight adjusted according to her wished was simply fascinating.

Xxxxxxxx

Isabella Rockwood watched from her tent. She saw the muggles, heard the ruckus laughter and thought of her parents, of how afraid the children must be, of her blood and of Susan Bones who had, for no reason that she knew of, apologised to her.

And then, with more than a little amazement at her own actions, she picked up her wand and went to save the victims.

Xxxxxxx

There were a lot of Death Eaters, packed into formation, laughing merrily at their victims and walking pointedly away from the section of the campsite that held the largest and most obviously magical tents. Even though the masks and the strange half light of spell fire and burning tents their smiles were clearly visible.

Then half a dozen throwing knives hurtled out of the dark, a stone impacted on someone's head with an ugly crack, the trio maintaining the shields curled over in sudden agony, arrows buried themselves in a selection of chests, a huge hammer was hurled into their midst and the muggles, who should have been falling to their deaths at this point, drifted quietly away into the night.

For a moment or soothe light from the spells hurled towards their attackers showed the assortment of girls that challenged them, the sole grown woman with the doll in her hand, the small figure in the frock coat and the almost grown girl walking calmly away. Then the arrows vanished, the hammer barrelled back to its wielder and the shadows writhed.

Most of them were old Death Eaters, a good number had seen the Inner circle fight, and a few of them recognised some of their attackers.

"What? You're pureblood, you should be on our side!" Derisive laughter turned them to others. "Your father-"

Shadows picked him up and threw him away.

"You are hurting my brother." The voice, young and of uncertain gender, was unnaturally even. "Side are irrelevant. You have _hurt _him."

The smart ones apparated away then, recognising a fight that could only end one way. The less intelligent waited for the aurors to arrive, and by then considerably few of them were fit to travel.

Xxxxxxxx

Yuki looked down at the corpse, her face a mask of serenity and her fingers curled delicately around her bow.

It was a corpse. Half an hour ago it had been torturing muggles, half an hour before that it had fought with its mother, the day before it had laughed at something a friend said, nine years ago it had killed her first and only pet. It was a corpse that, until a few minutes ago, had been her brother, and with the robe gone and the mask disposed of it was easy to see the hole in his chest and the missing eye, the places her two arrows had impacted and ended his life.

She was waiting to feel, something. Guilt, perhaps, remorse or sadness of panic or senseless denial of what she had done. Something other than the vague concern that the marks of her arrows were unfavourably recognisable and irritation at the necessity of mutilating the body. She should real something, surely?

Yuki looked at his huge, strong hands, and a warm satisfaction settled below her ribs at the realisation that he would never hurt her mother again, would never hurt anyone again.

Well, it was something anyway.

Resolving to worry about her sanity later, Yuki rolled the corpse into a still burning tent, turned away and headed back to where the aurors were dealing with the Death Eaters who hadn't managed to escape. She was fairly sure that Tracy was alright, she'd been with Hermione when Yuki had charged off after her brother, and they were stronger together. It wouldn't hurt to check on them though, and anyway, she needed to find out what had sent Miranda into such a rage.

It could be important.

Xxxxxxx

Wabaton wasn't a bad auror, most would say he was pretty good. He was calm, determined and conscientious of his duty. Perhaps too much so.

He was just doing his duty; that was all.

"Sir or ma'm, you are under arrest for inflicting grievous bodily harm upon-"

The dazed blue eyes managed to focus at last, and a flicker of alarm found its way onto the young, persons, face.

"Miranda you scared the life out of me! Don't you ever vanish like that again, you hear me!" A thin man with long blond hair charged over and enveloped the almost certainly girl in his arms. "You could have died!"

"Excuse me sir, but the young lady is under arrest-"

"WHAT?"

Wabaton couldn't stop himself from flinching.

"You want to arrest my daughter? When she stopped them?" The look in the man's eyes was nothing short of murderous. "Are you in the habit of arresting people who help you, or is it because she showed you up? Showed everyone how useless you are! Where were you when the Death Eaters started marching? What did you do in the fight, little man, what good are you?"

"Vigilantism is not the way to deal with-"

"Why not, it worked a damn sight better than the law did! Have you caught anyone who wasn't already incapacitated? Anyone at all?"

"She seriously injured a number of-"

"And maybe if people like you would stop protecting those psychopaths they would stop being a problem! Are you aware that they were torturing children, or dose that not matter to you?"

"Sir, I am aressti-"

"No you aren't." Shackelbolt, inserted himself between them, giving Wabaton a nasty look as he did so. "I saw you on the west flank sir, nice work. I'm afraid we'll need a record of the spells you used, and the same from your daughter, but it can wait a few days. Thank you for your assistance."

The blonde stared at him for a few moments, the light of near hysterical fury still gleaming in his eyes. Then he snorted and swept back to his daughter.

"We are going to St Mungos. And then you are grounded for, forever."

"Yeah?" Miranda swayed slightly, and didn't seem to notice when he picked her up. "Think I, over did it, a bit?"

"Yes, I rather think you did."

"Mm, gonna pass out now, kay?"

"That is probably for the best."

Shakelbolt let out a long, relieved breath and turned on Wabaton.

"Rule of thumb, if they fight Death Eaters, leave them be. If you ever do something that dumb again I will burry you. Probably alive."

"You act as though he would survive a repeat performance." said the grey eyed vigilante. "Being that foolish does rather reduce the chances of survival."

"I take it they get it from her then." added the bushy haired one, peering after the treating blond. "I thought it was just Indigo."

"No Mia, mot purebloods are a bit like that, but this level of action is mostly found in the Black family. They tend to be, temperamental."

"The entire family does things like this.

"Their, ah, unofficial motto is: May your god show mercy, for we shall not."

"That explains so much." mused the girl, inspecting he blood on her hammer. "We'll send in our statements tomorrow Professor Shakelbolt."

"Thank you, terrifying and probably unnatural young ladies."

"Why do you say that as though it were a bad thing?"

* * *

><p>Next time: To Hogwarts<p>

feedback is nice. Just saying.


	5. Chapter 5

Sum: Tournaments, politics crossdressing, weapons and too many cousins. The TriWizard Tournament at Hogwarts, because they can't have a peaceful year. Yoai, yuri, het, language, violence, etc.

Chaos Babe: Maybe the site hates us?

Sandy Anderson: Shh! Don't say it, the spelling elves will run off!

Silver-Moom-Light94: Cheap gags are often the most amuseing.

ShadowsofNyx: There hasn't been much whumpage, has there? Odd.

unkNOWncat: Um, your welcome?

Firehedgehog: Cheers.

Lotus seed: Yeah, they're back to normal now, though they may not stay that way.

Umei no Mai: Kingsleys kinda cool.

Kouru-Kage: Mass spelling errors to mass grammer errors. Soz.

DeathLadyShinigami: My girls are BAMF's, 'nuf said.

lordamnesia: He's much more fun after you put him though the wringer! Concequnces occur when we're starting to forget about the actions, mostly because I have a twisty sort of brain.

* * *

><p><span>To Hogwarts<span>

"Hm. Curious this is."

"Bill is taunting us and Charlie also. And Percy knows something, apparently."

"Clearly there shall be dragons. But why the dress robes?"

"But why would Hogwarts need dragons, apart from it making Hagrid incredibly happy?"

"Hm…"

The Nutters frowned into space and stroked the beards they didn't have. Ginny frowned at Jackie in stern disapproval.

"You were not there 20 seconds ago. Explain yourself."

"I have epic ninja powers." Jackie grinned as Hermione gave a hum of deep cynicism "And possibly notice me not charms."

"They work like that?" asked Ron, slightly amazed.

"Well, they can if you really want them to."

"Huh, that's cool. So do you know what's going on this year?"

"Yes, but Severus swore us to secrecy, on pain of pain." The way Jackie said it made it perfectly clear that he would tell them nothing more, and the twins obligingly huffed and stopped eyeballing him. "Now if you will excuse us, ladies and gentlemen, I have to show my co-conspirators my new and interesting toys. Ciao."

The Nutters charged off. Ginny eyed them for a moment, and then turned and walked determinedly in the opposite direction, showing once again the slightly odd fact that she was actually quite sensible when she wasn't fangirling.

"Yuki's dad works at the Ministry, doesn't he?"

A few moments of consideration lead to the conclusion that Dean was probably right, and the trio went to find Yuki for questioning.

xxxxxxxxx

"Well this looks cosy." Harry leaned against the doorway, head tilted, and considered the four Slytherins, Tracy and Miranda." "Might I assume that there has been another surge of anti-slytherin sentiment?"

"You may." stated Millicent, tone grim. "It must be admitted that we are not exactly helping ourselves, but the hazing is getting a little tiresome and the Ministry is being less than helpful about the situation. The press, of course, is delighted."

Harry hummed his understanding, watching in idle curiosity as Tracy's deft fingers wove tiny braids of Yuki's hair into intricate knots. The press were indeed having a field day, slamming the Ministry and alternately idolising and vilifying the women who had aided in the capture of the Death Eaters as Rita Skeeter proved, once again, her unrivalled ability to tie the Wizzarding Worlds collective mind in knots. Between the frenzy of the press, Fudges clumsy attempts to regain control, the reawakening of the old fears and the sheer confusion over which side the vigilantes had actually been fighting on the cracks in society were showing extremely clearly. The normal prejudices were surfacing with vengeance, feed in no small part by the escaped prisoners, who had vanished entirely, and the complete inability of the Darksider families to take this sort of treatment lying down.

It was going to be another difficult year. He could just tell.

"How inconvenient. Welcome to the madhouse, Miranda."

"I fell at home already." said Miranda blandly, petting Hades and frowning at the newspaper in her lap. "How come they are leaving you be?"

"Insufficient involvement, I think. I have heard a few, odd things from Jackie's letters, perhaps you could shed a little sight on the subject?"

She gave him a cool, hard look, and then sighed and shrugged.

"Yes, we were involved in that mess at the World Cup, yes, I am grounded for attacking Death Eaters, yes, Indigo caught the psychic backlash and was sick as a dog for a week, and yes, we only avoided a last minute transfer to Beaxbatons by Jackie feeling obliged to come with us and being subsequently miserable. Any other questions?"

"No, that about covers it. Thank you."

"I wasn't that ill." protested Indigo.

Flare snorted. Loudly.

"What he said." agreed Yuki, nodding to her sorta brother. "You were miserable."

"Stop moving your head, this is difficult!"

"Whatever you say Tracy. Hermione, hello."

"Hello Yuki, er, those look meaningful. Are they?"

"They are mourning knots, to indicate a death in the family."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I couldn't stand my brother."

"He killed her rabbit." added Flare.

"Oh." Hermione blinked a few times, assimilating this information. "Then why bother with the knots?"

"Apparently we have to keep up appearances."

"…Aristocrats are pretty much the same everywhere aren't they?"

"Essentially yes."

Dean nodded slowly, accepting Indigo's answer in contemplative silence.

"Okay! On to other things! Yuki, my brothers are implying that something big is going down at Hogwarts this year and your dad-"

"Isn't speaking too me at the moment."

"Oh." Ron blinked once. "Damn. Why not?"

"He believes that I am responsible for the death of my brother."

Harry considered the six dark purebloods and wondered if it was cultural or simply due to their extreme pragmatism. The two muggelborns look shocked and slightly outraged by the idea, and even Ron, who had fought a brother before, seemed utterly astonished by the statement. None of the darksiders so much as blinked at the blandly spoken words, and stranger still he could easily understand their easy acceptance.

And Yuki had not actually said that she hadn't been involved which was, interesting.

"As you said Dean, aristocrats are pretty much the same everywhere. Muggle lords have been killing of their rivals for millennia, including siblings. I expect Lord Greengrass suspects anyone who stands to gain from the death of his eldest."

"That's kinda nasty man."

"Even throne rests upon a pile of skulls Ron."

"Millie, baby, its nasty."

"It you ever call me that again I will have to kill you."

"And add my skull to your pile?" Ron was smirking, Millicent eyed him warily.

"No. You would haunt it and leer at me."

"This is true."

Miranda gave Ron a vaguely disturbed look and edged a little closer to Indigo's side, fingers twitching in a way that implied a certain knife longing to those who knew her.

"It worried me that he admits that."

"Try to ignore him Mira, he just has no sense of shame."

"So he's weird."

"What? I'm weird? You tried to get your brother a harem!"

"And received thirty one written applications. You are just weird."

Ron's face was a picture, but not a very good one.

"I would leave it at that if I were you." murmured Flare. "There are times when there is no good response and this is one of them."

Ron thought about it for a moment, then huffed and gave up.

"You win this time, but I'll be back!"

Miranda smirked, a fan appearing from god knew where –if the god was paying very close attention that is- and flicking open.

"Will you now?"

"…I am losing this one, like, so damn much. Someone get me outta here."

Millicent sighed deeply, stood and obligingly dragged a not at all unwilling Ron out by the hair.

Indigo watched them go with a bemused expression. Harry raised an eyebrow at him and Indigo raised one shoulder in responce, the image of surprised amazement.

"Well suited in a number of respects." Harry stated reprovingly.

"Well yes, precisely."

Harry hesitated and then inclined his head in acknowledgement of the point.

Flare kicked the wall and muttered darkly at them in protest.

xxxxxxxxxx

"I am not going on the boats."

"You are not going on the boats."

The siblings watched the rain with almost identical expressions of half disbelieving disgust.

"The boats are probably going to flood." agreed Yuki, reaching over a shoulder and shaping an umbrella of ice. "Are the carriages in their normal place Indigo?"

"They are. On three."

They bolted in a curiously practiced manner and reached a carriage no more than moderately soggy. Susan, Hannah and Neville bought rather more water into the carriage with them.

"Lovely weather we're having isn't it?" mused Susan, wringing out her hair. "Miranda, you're supposed to be crossing the lake."

"I defy you to make me."

"I like it." said Neville, cheerfully ignoring Hannah when she laughed at him. "It's fun. Hi Indy, do you think the dementors are still there?"

"After what happened last year? No, maybe the aurors but I doubt it."

"Aunties minions have not made a good showing recently. Maybe the skeleton horse things are some sort of new security."

"You saw them too?" Yuki looked relieved when Susan nodded. "I thought the rain must be playing tricks on me. They do look rather carnivorous."

"Those have always been there."

"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about." stated Hannah, serenely cutting the girls off as they prepared to argue. "That said, ask Hagrid about them. What new teachers are we due this year?"

As a distraction it worked rather well until they reached the entrance hall, when Peeves did his best to drench them.

"Damn it!" Susan dodged the water bomb, but only just. "Bloody poltergeist. Maybe the horse things will eat him."

"If they were going to they would have done it by now." Indigo edged around the puddle with a wary eye on Peeves. "I don't think they eat ghosts."

"They can't be knew, I know I've never seen them before."

"I've always seen them, as has Luna."

"Indigo, are you trying to tell me that I have been ignoring skeletal winged horses for over three years? Because I am not that inobservant."

"Apparently you are since- Shit!"

"What are we arguing about?" inquired Harry as the water bomb reversed direction in mid air and Peeves got soaked.

"It seems that Susan and Yuki never saw the horse's that pull the carriages before."

"Really? They've always been there."

"I can't see them." stated Miranda.

"That is somewhat curious. Aren't you supposed to be with the other fist years."

"Yes."

"If you manage to get a detention before you are even sorted Jackie will pout."

"I know!"

Her glee was utterly irresistible.

Xxxxxxxxxx

There was one new face at the teachers table, and an empty space where the Defence teacher normally sat. Dumbledore was as sparkly as ever and Miranda, who had never seen him before, swore quietly at the sight of him.

"Yeah, he's on particularly fine form today." said Ron, settling opposite her. "Really lurid and totally doing it on purpose. "Indigo, meant to ask earlier, did you have to lose the boobs?"

"Yes."

"Aw…"

"Perhaps you would like some of your own, to compensate?"

Ron blinked a few times, and then paused to consider the offer.

"…How long does it last?"

Miranda grinned at him as her sodden peers entered the hall, one boy wrapped in Hagrid's vast moleskin coat and visibly bouncing. Indigo fixed a murderous glare between his shoulder blades.

"People should not be so happy about having to be rescued by sea monsters."

"Lake monster man."

"How many fresh water squid do you know off?"

"What- Oh hell. How'd it get into the lake?"

Miranda ignored them, glaring at the sorting hat as it sang.

"That hat is anti-slytherin." The youth to her left snorted and she turned her glare upon him. "Indigo, why are we sitting with the Gryffindors?"

"Because it pisses them off."

She hummed in a non-committal manner and when 'Prince, Miranda' was called she rose and swept up to the hat with a haughty grace that dared anyone and everyone to challenge her.

"Prince?"

"Sev's mother. She's the new Lady, Sev couldn't claim because he's half-blood."

"Huh. She seems protective."

Indigo shifted quietly and didn't answer.

Xxxxxxxxxx

-You will place me in Slytherin.-

If the Sorting Hat had a face it would have been a picture of surprise. This was certainly not the normal, terrified first year. No fear and no anger, merely this singly demand.

It was not accustomed to being given orders.

_-I will place you where ever I think best, shadowfire lady-_

A probe to her mind found all the usual surface nonsense, and below that was determination, diamond hard and steel strong. No shy child this one, ruthless and dangerous and willing to do pretty much anything to keep her brother _teacher/mother/friend _safe.

A Black by her mother's blood, a Blacks capacity for devotion softened only slightly by her youth and her father's line. She could become a Huffelpuff with such loyalty but that, would not do.

_-So very like your brother, darkfire girl. Join him then, in- _"Slytherin!"

Xxxxxxxxx

Dumbledore had, of course, known that Severus's daughter was to start Hogwarts this year, and had known though his remaining contacts at the ministry that the girl was the new Lady Prince, but he could not shake the feeling that he should have researched the girl more fully.

Her disregard of the traditional first year entrance was not entirely unexpected considering the weather and her half-brother, but she might prove a difficult student if she frequently showed such disrespect. Fortunately her age would prevent her disrupting his other plans, but he observed her discreetly none the less. Miranda Prince should not prove too dangerous, but as a Slytherin she bore watching, and as the daughter of Severus Snape and sister of indigo Malfoy she bore more watching than most.

The sorting ended at last, and the children descended upon the food the second he gave them leave. Teenagers were perpetually hungry, he could only imagine the wails had Peeves succeeded in preventing the feast, they would no doubt have been spectacular.

"Albas are you certain that Moody will make it on time? If he is not properly introduced…"

"It's quite alright Minerva, I am quite certain he will arrive in time to be introduced with Professor Malificent at the end of the feast."

Minerva pursed her mouth disapprovingly, but returned her attention to her meal and let Albas continue his observations undisturbed. This was not as pleasant as it might have been, as it was becoming ever more difficult to ignore the students who would rise during the meal and relocate to sit with friends in other houses, ignoring the unspoken rules against such behaviour. It was most irksome, could they not simply stay where they were put.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Hermione pushed her plate away with a satisfied smile and watched lazily for a few moments as Tracy finished her slice of pavlova. Tracy was looking particularly lovely this evening, her skin glowed and the candlelight caught upon the threads of gold that the summer had woven into her hair leaving her with a beautiful radiance.

Hermione blinked herself out of it as the plate cleared. This was her friend, her best friend, she should not be thinking such things of her.

Tracy dropped her cutlery and gave Hermione a warm smile.

"What do you think has happened to the DADA teacher?"

"My current theory is that they have been struck by lightning, though it could be the History of Magic teacher that is missing."

"Perhaps, but I think she has the look of a historian. The hair…"

Hermione paused to inspect their new teacher, and concluded that Tracy was probably right. The woman was pretty in a pale, slightly manic way, but her short, dark hair stuck up in a way that suggested that it was frequently grabbed and tugged up and rarely brushed. Hermione's admittedly flawed knowledge of Defence Against the Dark Art's teachers implied that they were more inclined towards twitchiness than scholarly frustration.

"Interesting, whoever she is."

"Oh yes, she- Ah. That time already is it?"

Dumbledore rose and twinkled at them, slightly threatening to her eyes.

"So, now that we are all feed and watered I must ask once more for your attention while I give a few notices."

He paused to beam at them and Hermione fought down the urge to throw a plate at him. Why a dramatic pause? There was absolutely nothing dramatic about this situation?

"Mr Filch has asked me to inform you that the list of forbidden items objects has been extended to include screaming yo-yo's, fanged Frisbees and ever bashing boomerangs. The full list can be viewed in Mr Filch's office if anyone wished to check it. As ever I would like to remind you that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all students, as is Hogsmead village to all students under third year. On the subject Honeyduke's sweet shop has closed due to the unfortunate death of the proprietor."

"Do you think the death eaters used the passage in the cellar?" murmured Hermione.

"They must have, I expect he got in the way."

"In further unhappy news it is my duty to inform you that the Qudditch cup will not take place this year."

It was a sad reflection on the state of humanity that this drew more outrage from the crowd than the death of the owner of Honeydukes.

"This is due to the event starting in October that will consume much of the teacher's time and energy, for I have the pleasure of announcing that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

There was a moment of silence , which ended early by yet another rumble of thunder and the doors to the Great Hall banging open.

Hermione gave the man in the black travelling cloak a look of vast disapproval. She was certain people weren't normally this dramatic, perhaps the weather was just bringing it out in them. The doors were simply too heavy to swing like that without the aid of magic.

He lowered his hood and walked slowly to the teachers table, the dull thud of his wood leg echoing around the hall, and the blend of candle light and lightning alternately softened and highlighting the mad scared mess of his face, but it was his eyes that held the hall silent.

Ne was small, dark and utterly unremarkable. The other was large, perfectly round, electric blue and rolling ceaselessly in every direction , including backwards, quite independent of the other. Clearly it was some strange magical prosthetic, but it wizards could make a working eye why was this man using a wooden leg? The muggle's had created a variety of superior alternatives.

The wizzarding world truly was a bizarre place.

"Ah, this seems an excellent time to introduce our new teachers! May I present Alastor Moody, our new defence against the dark arts teacher, and Professor Catherine Malificent who will be teaching History of Magic."

Professor Malificent received a little applause, but most eyes stayed on Moody, and Hermione ignored Dumbledore's explanation of the tournament to watch the pale woman. Her expression was impossible to decipher from this distance but she could hardly be pleased to be introduced like that, so clearly and afterthought. If there were going to be disagreements between the new teachers she wanted to know about it in advance.

Dean would have noticed, or maybe Indigo. One of the psychic of her acquaintance anyway.

"Moody was an auror wasn't he? Mr Weasley went to see him after the World Cup, enchanted dustbins or something."

"He ws the best during the war, the Ministry made him leave after the bribes were accepted."

"Ah? Hired in a response to the Death Eaters?"

"Maybe. I can't think that he would think much of the dark families anyway. Bad blood."

Hermione bit her lip, all too aware that a good number of her friends came from that bad blood, and as a direct result of this took shit from no-one. Even Tracy, calmer than the rest, had a streak of ruthlessness and Moody, for some reason, had her attention.

"What's wrong?"

"His magic seems to think that Moody is taller than he is."

Hermione considered this as Dumbledore forbid most of the school from the tournament, as though that had ever worked. Her understanding of Tracy's abilities was rudimentary at best, but she recognised that this would be, significant.

"One would require extremely good posture to balance on a wooden leg, would they not?"

"I believe so."

They were dismissed and moved slowly towards the door, arm in arm."The Nutters appear to be plotting something." mused Tracy.

"They have resolved to open a joke shop; one thousand galleons would provide start up funds, though I suspect that they won't lack sponsors. "

"It would surprise me. An ex-auror would be difficult to influence."

"Mm. Do you think we'll ever get a quiet year?"

Tracy laughed, soft and slightly melancholy.

"Unlikely dearest, we do so attract trouble. I'll tell Harry and Hazel."

"And I shall inform the Nutters. See you at breakfast tomorrow?"

"Of course. Goodnight Hermione."

Her fingers were warm and soft where they brushed the back of her hand and for all that Hermione knew that she should not think like this she did, and it felt so natural to lean up and kiss Tracy's cheek.

"Goodnight."

Then she realised what she had done, and hurried away before she had to witness Tracy's distain.

xxxxxxxxx

Yuki took one look at her friends expression and rolled her eyes.

"It's about time."

"One day you will fall in love, and then I will laugh at you."

The dazed happiness did not entirely leave her face, but Tracy stopped impersonating a traffic bollard so Yuki counted it at as a victory.

* * *

><p>Next time:<span>Moody and the Vampire<span>


	6. Chapter 6

Sum: Tournaments, politics crossdressing, weapons and too many cousins. The TriWizard Tournament at Hogwarts, because they can't have a peaceful year. Yoai, yuri, het, language, violence, etc.

Guest: Yup, one of the v few cute relationships in my work.

Chaos Babe: Carnage, no, unpleasantness...

Lotus Seed: Cheers!

lordamnesia: Shh! Spoilers! ... Maybe, I haven't made up my mind yet.

Silver-Moon-Light94: Why take a spoon when you can grab a shovel? Subtle I ain't.

Sandy Anderson: Only when they are making explosives!

unkNOWcat: They are made of sap at the moment, and Mira, she's my favorite OC, need more be said?

* * *

><p><span>Moody and the Vampire<span>

The morning was gloomy and moderately depressing in an after party sort of way, with the drama of the storm over and a complete lack of anything even slightly interesting to replace it. This did not explain why the breakfast plotting session was frequently interrupted by the Slytherins dozing off on each other, but it probably didn't help matters.

"So, my most plausible theory is that Moody is a metamorphagus, but that certainly doesn't explain his chosen shape. The missing limbs alone need researching."

"He's a spy then?"

"Perhaps, but spying on whom? The tournament is common knowledge now."

"Yeah, okay. What about security then? We're down a few protectors on last year."

"It seems unlikely, Moody himself would probably be a better defender than this imposter, he was- Flare, get off my shoulder!"

The voodoo worker jerked sharply, blinked a few times and obediently removed his head from Susan's shoulder, muttering sleepy apologies as he did so. This caused him to sway into Miranda, disturbing the uncertain balance of her position, so that her weight and Flare's shifted onto Indigo, who promptly collapsed onto Harry, who seemed fine with that and absently started petting the blonde hair. This, naturally, made the more awake members of the Hit Squad coo, or smirk, at them and Miranda provided irrefutable evidence of her family connections when she swore indistinctly at everyone from the middle of the pile and threw a pepper pot as Hazel. She didn't throw it very hard, and Julian caught it, but still the point was made.

"Do I want to know why you are all so tired this morning?" inquired Harry.

"Mm…" Yuki raised her head from Millicent's shoulder and peered sleepily at him. "Hard to tell though all those manners, but probably, yeah."

"Ah? Then perhaps you would be so kind as to enlighten me."

"…Inter house politics."

"I see." He seemed to consider this for a moment. "Who won?"

"Miranda, and us by extension."

"Well that's alright then. If we could perhaps have your input on the Moody issue?"

Miranda muttered something in a vaguely irate tone.

"I beg your pardon?"

"She says" Indigo paused to yawn. "stop chatting about it and observe the sod 'till we can find out what he wants."

"That would make sense." said Julian mildly, and was greeted with annoyed silence.

"What do you think he wants?" Dean's stare was intent, fixed on his fellow psychic.

"Constant vigilance! An' maybe one of those walking sticks with swords in 'em."

"Those are kinda cool."

"You are not having one Neville."

"But-"

"I said no, Neville, and I mean no."

He directed a thunderous pout in Susan's direction, and she responded with an extremely unimpressed eyebrow until he stopped being so bloody silly.

"We have DADA this morning." stated Fred, watching in amusement.

"We'll keep an eye on him." agreed George, and Jackie nodded.

This decided the combined intellect of the Hit Squad transferred from the dangers of their teachers to the rather more difficult task of getting five dozy Slytherins into the cruel, cold world of wakefulness in time for their first class of the year.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Ron normally enjoyed herbology, it was satisfying, is occasionally disgusting work, and between Neville's unexpected green fingers and Hermione's ability to memorize anything she wanted too, he was yet to get poisoned at all, not even a little bit. Plus, Professor Sprout was cool in a weird sort of way that he couldn't even pretend to understand.

Maybe he'd like this lesson more if his brothers and their boyfriend –had they made it official yet, he still wasn't sure what was happening there- weren't off spying on a fake auror with a magic eye. He knew Mad Eye Moody's reputation and anyone able to take his place had to be pretty dangerous, even if Moody had agreed to the switch, an' that seemed kinda unlikely to him.

His gut said that bad shit was going down, something ugly, something that they had all missed, and it was generally pretty reliable about that kinda thing.

The bubotuber popped with a weird squlp noise and Ron directed the gunk into the bottle, absently wrinkling his nose against the smell. He was certain there was a good reason they were doing this, but he'd kinda like to know what it was.

"Ron?"

Hannah, soft spoken and concerned as she replaced the full bottle with an empty one. He worried about her sometimes; no-one could be that nice without something big going on in their head, no-one who would willingly hang out with the Hit Squad anyway.

"I've missed something, an' it's gonna get me for it."

Another weird squlp, Hermione and Susan talking to their right, Neville humming to himself, Brown and Patil were being noisily disgusted at the end of the bench. He didn't get why, but he' stuffed Hakkai's guts back in that one time, so his gross-meter was probably broken.

"Is it about Moody?"

"I dunno."

The lesson ended, an' bubotuber pus was apparently used to treat bad spots, but not while undiluted which was good to know, he supposed. Harry could probably explain it in more detail, and Hermione looked sort of interested so knowledge was going to happen to him, if Ron liked it or not. He was okay with that though, Hermione was a pretty good teacher, even if what she taught was a bit random.

Care of magical creatures was probably going to be interesting. He honestly liked Hagrid, the half giants complete inability to keep a secret didn't worry him too much and he seriously knew his stuff, but Ron could do without the love of insanely dangerous creatures. At least Charlie kept his dragons well away from the house, Hagrid kept his in the back garden.

You could still see the burnt patch where Indigo and the dementor's had thrown down, the grass wasn't growing back as fast as it normally would, despite the stuff that Professor Sprout must have put down over the summer to make it grow faster. Stupid dementors, they had gone after the wrong damn person, and now their ashes were forming anti-fertilizer and killing the grass.

Ron frowned at the burnt patch, and the sense that he was missing something kicked him in the brain all the way to Hagrid's hut, where it was chased off by the blast ended skrewts, and all that proved was that the voices in Ron's head were actually more sensible than some of his friends, because Susan looked fascinated and Hannah was actually cooing over the damn things. Cooing! Even Neville was eying the evil lobster thingys sideways, though that was probably because of the smell.

Not even the monkey could consider eating the damn things.

Xxxxxxx

It was their first History of Magic lesson of the year, and it promised to be an interesting one. Slytherin's were in the habit of ruthlessly grilling new teachers whenever the opportunity arose, and the Huffelpuffs, fresh from a morning of demented shellfish, were not an affective deterrent to such behavior. In fact Susan would probably help, and since she was the undeclared Queen of the badgers her housemates were not going to get in the way.

It was odd really, the other houses acted as though it was just the Slytherins that played politics, but each house had its monarch, acknowledge or not, and each monarch had their court. At the moment most of them were members of the Hit Squad or the Munchkin Army, a happy but accidental matter, probably caused by their collective and individual capacity to cause terror and mayhem. That was normally how royalty got started.

Professor Malificent waved them in, brisk and already annoyed at the entire world. Indigo gave the woman a once over and then nodded to Hannah. Slytherin's brat prince to Huffelpuff's King, even as her Knight dropped into the seat at Indigo's left and his Rook settled at her right hand.

It was stupid on both their parts, an insane aberration in this shifting chess game, and they knew that, didn't they? And the knowing was not enough to stop Flare's smile or Indigo's welcoming brush of thought, because cunning did not equate to wisdom and never had.

"Silence." Malificent's voice was calm, but not easily ignored, some soft harmonic that demanded obedience. "You will work hard in my class. Do as I say and you will get a grade worth having. Disobey me and I will make your lives miserable. Bin's was useless, but you are going to be a credit to me, one way or another." No-one spoke. You did not need to be psychic to know that she meant every word. "Now, I expect you have some useless questions, ask them now or forget about them."

Yuki touched a query against his fingers, and he caught her hand a moment in refusal. They could undermine the new professor here, throw out a quip about Disney villains and open the first cracks in the wall of her command, but not now, not this one. Not when Dumbledore so desperately wished her gone and her self control felt like razors on dry skin and her hunger had him testing the sharpness of fangs that he didn't have. Catherine Malificent would be, useful, and defiantly worth keeping.

There were questions, and yes, they were useless, but she dealt with them quickly and got on with the lesson. She was a good teacher, by the rather questionable standards of Hogwarts, the bones of the matter went on the board while she spoke the details, and a few books were mentioned with an air of 'read them or else' that most of the school would go along with. Severus might have taught like this, if he had ever had any inclination to teach anyone other than potions prodigies.

Homework on the first day as well, Maleficent was clearly going to be Hermione's new favorite.

It was a moment's work to convincingly 'lose' a pen, they all knew he was fond of his fountain pens, and that quills annoyed him. Flare and Yuki would know, because they always did, and Millicent would work it out because she was considerably more observant than she pretended to be. So was Hannah, of course, but Hannah trusted him too much to look for the deception.

"Did it go under a cupboard?" She was all too ready to stay and help him find look.

"Don't they always? Shoo. Don't you have transfiguration?"

"Well yes, but you have…" They knew he'd plucked the lesson plan from their heads, they just ignored it.

"Ancient Runes." It wasn't even a lie.

Neville laughed and they followed the rest of the class out. The general opinion was that he could teach that class if he wanted to, and while Indigo was reasonably sure that he would be a terrible teacher of anything, and his favourite class in particular, it was useful to have a class he could skip without anyone caring too much.

Malificent was trying to look busy, she knew she had this period free and was sharp enough to realise he was in no rush, but the scent of his blood was twisting the hunger into painful knots. She wanted him away, wanted to clear the room of the smell of mortal blood and the torment it bought with it.

"Why didn't you eat this morning? Daylight and moody teenagers cannot be good for you at anytime."

"What are you talking about mister...?"

"It's Malfoy, professor. I am an empath, and you are extremely aware of your teeth, it's a bad combination. Which wrist would you prefer?"

Shock and anger and fear and the resurgence of the huger as the predatory hind brain she repressed so fiercely saw what was on offer and picked a vein.

"Do you have any idea what you are doing?!"

"Be assured Professor, if I didn't know I wouldn't be doing it. I did quite a bit of research on vampires over the holidays, my stepfather was concerned." He caught her stare, held it and smirked challengingly. "I am a Slytherin, jumping in head first would be a betrayal of my house."

Malificent met him halfway, out of view from the windows, and took the wrist he offered to her, delicately traced one of the blue veins. She knew how easily she could kill him here, and wanted to know how easily he could kill her, to understand where the confidence came from. Magic buzzed at the base of his skull but it had no answer for her, not until he knew her age and her strength.

"You want something. You must."

"Dumbledore can barely stand your presence. You twist him up just by standing near him, and it suits me that he stay twisted up."

Indigo could feel her mind working, reassessing all the things that had happened or failed to happen during the day, things that might have been oversights or accidents, and might have been the doing of a powerful man who fiercely hated her presence, hated that his deputy had hired a vampire. Then she smiled, and slid sharp little fangs into his wrist.

It hurt until it didn't, and it stopped hurting quickly. Vampires were a well evolved species, and their biology had long since realized that a meal is easier to eat when it isn't trying to hit you. Indigo was not quite drifting, tied into his own skin by his blood on her tongue and a growing need to set something on fire.

Her control was a blade in her mind, to sharp to feel as it cut, but it ached after as the hunger tried to demand more. Indigo felt it rise, felt her beat it down as the two puncture wounds closed and faded to nothing. Her mind hurt, half resistance to his presence there and half her own unbreakable will. So glad he wasn't a vampire.

About half a pint down. He could manage well enough with less, a smudge of blood on his wrist and professor Malificent pondering the possibility of blackmail as she stopped herself licking it off the skin. He had a handkerchief though.

"You are not entirely human, I think.

"That is news to no-one." Rebuffing he potential for counter blackmail was a mistake, it put her on edge, but there was no undoing it. He retrieved the pen, lifted his bag and paused, indulging in theatrics. "Professor, why are you named after a Disney villain?"

It hit the right note, reminded her of his youth and made her repress a smile.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."

So vampires got drunk and did stupid things, that could be useful information at some point. Yuki was waiting for him in the hall, and he accepted her arm, not as dizzy as she thought he was but not so steady as to object.

"What are you thinking, my brother." Odd that it meant so much to her, she had killed hr biological brother.

"Chess is an odd sort of game."

Yuki understood almost instantly, but when didn't she? Their thought patterns were more than slightly unnerving in how similar they were, he had been developing this way for decades but she just was. A shadowed blessing, this not-sister of his.

"Not always, but we have quite a few sides in this game. Even the smaller game of Hogwarts."

"To true. I think Hannah is a King."

"Ah? I see your point, completely vital but not that dangerous in and of herself. Hazel as well then, and perhaps Dean."

"I'm not sure about Hazel, but I certainly wouldn't want Dean on a battlefield. What would the Nutter's be?"

"A combination, I believe." She tapped absently in his wrist. "Of knight and bishop."

"Unpredictable but devastating strikes and a tendency to approach from odd angels? Yes, I take your point, Gryffindors Quiddictch captain would be their Queen, yes?"

"Yes… Hermione is a Rook, I think, and Ron as well. Dean, no he has to be the King, the rest actually like him, and Dumbledore is King of the teacher's side so he can't stand with the Gryffindors."

"Yeah?" Indigo considered, and bowed head to her reasoning. "McGonagall is his Queen, Susan in Huffelpuff and Harry in Ravenclaw. Julian and Flare are Rocks to my mind."

"Neville is a Knight, Tracy is a bishop and Millie, she's our second Rock isn't she. So who does that make Slytherins King?"

"Someone so almost helpless? We would eat them alive."

"Ah, we are cheating then, how lovely. It will make us ever so difficult to stop, particularly with all our Queens."

"I thought you would see that. That's Alysandra, yourself and Isabella Rockwood, I think. Miranda?"

"Much as I love your sister, not yet, she's still your Knight. Severus isn't exactly on our side, so Slytherin has four queens. It seems like overkill."

"I counted three."

"You, dear."

"Not a bishop then?"

"No." She must know some trick, some turn of the mind to block an empath because her mind felt quiet to him, despite the thoughts he could see moving behind her eyes. "Not a bishop."

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Why do you look so pleased?"

"We have additional blackmail." Miranda's smile was a thing of distilled evil. "My plans proceed apace, in interesting directions. The undead kink need only be confirmed."

"Oh." Harry blinked a few times, absently resisting the flow of students as he struggled to make sense of this curious statement. "Miranda, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."

"You haven't seen Indigo since lunch, have you? I always forget that he can't send thoughts to you as well." She rubbed her chin, not seeming to notice the careful blankness of Harry's face. "We'll tell you after lessons. Try not to let Moody kill you before then, okay?"

"I shall endeavour not to."

She laughed at his bland tone and fell back into the stream of humanity, taking full advantage of the alarm of the nearby students to make headway. Harry shrugged at her back and restated his journey to Defence.

The Slytherins occupied a somewhat uncomfortable place in the school, but they weren't doing much to get themselves out of it. Most of the older students were trying to get past the stereotypes, but manically laughing 1st years moving through the corridors did not make it terribly easy.

There was a queue outside the classroom, which was not so strange in Ravenclaw lessons, but the silence and the lack of open books was a little unusual. Moody was certainly an unnerving presence but Harry suspected that the unease of his housemates more due to Tracy's frown and Hazel's clear nervousness than their new professor. After the Death Eater incident the Hit Squad was generally assumed to be among the most dangerous people in any room, and their fear was frightening.

They had their choice of seats though, the rest of the class lingering in the hall when the bell rang. Tracy, who might easily draw fire from an ex-auror, headed to a corner to observe more discreetly and Hazel settled at her side. Harry positioned himself front and centre, between them and the teacher's desk, half defender and half target. He was not expecting Moody to try anything, it was too early in the game for that, but should he do something unexpected he could delay the imposture long enough for Tracy to put him down.

Padma Patil sat next to him, wand stuck though the messy bun of her hair at a rakish angle and something odd in the set of her shoulders as she set up on the desk. Harry would have liked to know what was going though her mind, but he could hear the distinctive clunk of Moody's footsteps, and she probably wouldn't have answered him anyway.

Moody entered, no less strange now then at the feast, and this close it was easy to sense the not quite rightness of his chi. Most would see it but not understand it. Most would be afraid.

"You can put those away," he growled, flesh eye fixing on the text books "those books. You won't need them."

Someone in the middle actually whimpered. Moody was not going to be popular among the more bookish members of the school, and the way his prosthetic eye flicked over them as he took the register was unlikely to aid his cause.

"Right. Professors Dumbledore and Shacklebolt tell me you have a grounding in duelling, physical combat and Dark creatures – you've covered boggarts, red caps, grindylows and kappa's, is that right?"

A few shifted uneasily as the reference to Kougaiji's lessons, the Ravenclaws had not proven terribly skilled at manually hitting things, but all nodded their agreement.

"Not a bad base, but you don't know much about curses so I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can really do to each other, not that watered down version you've seen so far. I've got a year to teach you to deal with dark magic, and you had better pay attention."

The silent was perfect, and Moody seemed pleased by it.

"So, straight to it. Curses come in many strengths and forms. The Ministry says I should teach you counter curses and not show you what the illegal dark curses look like until you're 6th years, apparently you aren't old enough to deal with it." He smiled grimly, flesh eye flicking to Tracy for a moment. "I say that the sooner you know you are up against the better, and Professor Dumbledore agrees with me. Books won't help you much here, I'm not saying don't study but the lessons are more important by far. A wizard who pulls a dark curse on you isn't going to tell you what he'll use or what it'll do. You need to recognise each curse when you see it. You need to know instantly what you are looking at. You need to be alert, watchful and prepared. You need CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

They flinched, jerking out of the half meditative wash of his gravelly voice. Harry smiled slightly.

"So, do any of you know which curses are the most heavily punished?"

There was a long pause before the hands rose, a few of them trembled, and Harry noticed, from the corner of his eye that Tracy's stayed firmly on her desk. He knew that she could answer, and Moody clearly knew it too for his magical eye fixed on her as he gestured to Lisa Turnpike.

"The, um, the Imperius curse?"

"Yes." Moody nodded, almost appreciative. "That one gave the Ministry a lot of trouble during the war."

He produced a jar containing three large spiders from his desk, reached in and caught one, with surprising dexterity for such gnarled hands. He fixed his wand on it and murmured "_Imperio."_

His tone was disturbing, something close to hunger, close to loathing, marked the word.

The spider swung from Moody's thumb, under his palm to land at his wrist and then leaped onwards, weaving silk around each finger in dainty, near invisible patterns before falling to the desk and performing some impressive acrobatics. A few people giggled. Harry felt a terrible urge to vomit.

"Think its funny, do you?" snarled Moody, glaring at the gigglers. "Like it if I did it to you?"

This time the silence did not mollify Moody in the slightest.

"Absolute control. It will do anything I want, even if I wanted it to jump into a fire. Years back there were a lot of people being controlled by the Imperius. It gave the Ministry quite a job, working out who was forced to act and who acted of their own free will." He looked at Tracy again, a dark edged stare for the Death Eaters daughter. "Tricky work. The Imperius can be fought and I'll teach you how, but it requires will power and real strength of character and not everyone has enough. Best not to get hit in the first place, remember, CONSTANT VIGILENCE!"

Moody dropped the spider back into the jar as some of the more nervous students returned their wands to their proper places.

"Anyone know another? Yeah, you."

There is a torture curse." Said the boy, Ernie something, shrinking under Moody's stare. "The, er, crucifix curse?"

"Not crucifix, no. The Cruciatus curse, needs to be a bit bigger for you to really, get the idea." He caught the next spider, enlarged it and dropped it onto the desk were it lay, seemingly too frightened to move. "_Crucio!"_

The legs twitched and flexed as the spider rocked itself across the surface, wild convulsions in an insects body.

"It was created by a healer." said Harry, quiet but clear. "To wake up coma patients, the pain is actually caused by the nerves responding to a vast surge of electrical impulses. It actually had a fairly high success rate, but then the general public became aware of it and, well, the rest you know. I think you have made your point Professor. Cease." Moody raised his wand, and the spider relaxed, but continued to twitch under Harry's intent stare. "It also causes nerve damage. You may have killed it Professor, the spell was made to be used on adult humans and would probably be too much for something so small."

"Interesting bit of information there."

"The Black family has accumulated an extensive library over the years."

"No doubt." Moody growled the words, and Harry wondered if the man was aware of the torture chambers that still resided under 13 Grimwald Place. "That is a pain curse, the pain curse, no thumbscrews required. It was very popular as well. Another curse, Potter?"

Harry glanced up, met Moody's mismatched gaze with his own brilliant green stare and smiled coldly.

"Avarda Kedarva, or the killing curse. It is rather more, flashy that Imperius or Cruciatus, but also more permanent. It can only be dodged, as while it clearly is possible to block it Lily Potter was murdered before she was able to share her discovery with the world."

The stare held for a moment, then Moody slowly nodded and looked away.

"The killing curse needs a powerful bit of magic behind it- most of you could try it on me now and I wouldn't even get a headache, and good, I'm not here to teach you how to do it. But you have to know about it, you have to remember the colour and, yes Potter, dodge if you see it because no living person knows how to block it. These are the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on another human being will put you in Azkaban for life, and that is what you are up against. That is what will end you if you don't practice CONSTANT VIGILANCE! Get your quills, write this down…"

The rest of the lesson was spent on note taking, and they were dismissed with a sharp demand for them all to have a good think about the information. Tracy and Hazel caught up with Harry half way down the corridor, their chattering classmates left behind as they jogged to keep up with his long, swift strides.

"Harry, what is the matter?"

"The Cruciatus curse is extremely difficult to cast on anything with an active mind, the bioelectricity causes disruption and provides a natural resistant. There were studies done when the spell was first developed because healers are **not stupid**! It only works if the caster really, really wants to hurt the victim, the emotion focuses the magic to bypass the disruption. Moody is clearly not afraid of spiders and I am somewhat concerned to find that our teacher is a sadist."

He was angry, furious in fact but it was contained, coiled heavy under his skin until it could be used.

"We must inform the others." stated Tracy briskly. "Professor Snape can be trusted, and Madame Pomfrey may prove an ally in this matter."

"I can pretend to need a calming draft." offered Hazel, clearly troubled.

"Do so." Harry knew his tone was clipped and hard, but couldn't quite find the will to care at the moment. "Tracy, please inform Professor Snape. I will be writing to Remus for, legal advice."

"For..?" Tracy trailed off as she put it together. "Showing the unforgivable to minors may be illegal in itself and that could solve, many of our problems."

"You both have twisty minds." stated Hazel, performing a u-turn. "I'll see you at HQ in an hour."

Tracy also left, headed towards the dungeons and Snape at a brisk walk, slightly to fluid to be considered marching. The Hit Squad did increasingly act like a military unit during emergencies, and that would probably bother Harry once he had calmed down enough to consider it.

But calming down enough may take some time.

* * *

><p>Next time: Sport Means War and Europe is Sorta Locationist<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Sum: Tournaments, politics crossdressing, weapons and too many cousins. The TriWizard Tournament at Hogwarts, because they can't have a peaceful year. Yoai, yuri, het, language, violence, etc.

Lotus seed: I'm blushing, just so you know.

lordamnesia: Fleur is going to have a larger part than in cannon

Chaos Babe: You say the sweetest things.

The Weird Someone: I do need to go back and clear up the typo's one of these days. I'm not sure if he'll survive to get arrested, my babies are sorta murderous.

cheza88: I'm not stopping. It drives me potty when stories just stop and it has happened to some awesome ones.

Firehedgehog: -grins-

why u wanna no: Cheers

unkNOWcat:There is more. Not a whole lot of more but some more, okay?

chookee choco: Problem with knowing how the story line goes is that I tend to think everyone else does as well. I do need a beta reader, I can no longer claim other wise. Could you PM me an e-mail address? I'll send you the next chunk once I get it hammered out.

Authors note: This chapter is kinda short, and unfortunately the next is unlikely to get much longer. Employment is great for my bank balance but bad for my muse, and updates are likely to be erratic from not on. Sorry all.

* * *

><p><span>Sport Means War and Europe is Sorta Locationist<span>

The Hit Squad sprawled around their room like a pack of indolent lions. Momentum had been gained, and promptly lost again as they hit the roadblock of Sirius's mental breakdown. The mind healers had been predicting it since he had started therapy and it should actually aid his overall sanity in the long run, but now Remus couldn't do their research, and with the curious lack of information on wizzarding law in the library the Moody watch was restricted to just watching.

Madame Pomfrey had played her part beautifully, but they were in no position to take advantage of Dumbledore's need to sooth his medi-witch. Without any legal knowledge they were firmly stuck.

Hence the lion impersonation, though they really needed a fly attracting carcass to complete the image there was no deigning the resemblance to big cats. Even Hermione could not resist the urge to lounge, and she had arithmancy homework on offer.

"…can we just kill him?"

"No." murmured Susan, sounding very much regretful, but rather muffled as she was face down on Hazel's chest. "Fudge's wants our heads on a platter. Unless we can find a really good reason to get rid of him we'd go straight to Azkaban."

Tracy swore indistinctly and wiggled closer to Hermione's side as she frowned at the world.

"Can we get the munchkins to kill him for us?"

"We are not believable innocents." stated Harry, absently petting Neville and Hannah, who were napping on his chest. "Anyone murdered in our general vicinity will be linked to us, even if only by rumor."

"That is so unfair. How many people have we actually killed?"

"…Two." said Yuki after a moment's thought, adjusting on Hannah's lap and causing Indigo to mutter darkly in the process. "Not counting the dementors. Or the nightmares. Or the aurors."

"The aurors were not our fault."

"No, but we are scary and we were there, so everyone will assume it was us regardless of the facts of the matter. Assumption of guilt is unfortunately common."

Jackie grumbled into Fred's lap, and then silence returned.

"…Where did the table go?"

"What are you talking about Ron?"

"The table Millie. We're on the floor because we wouldn't all fit on the couches, so where is the table that used to be here?"

"On the ceiling of course."

Ron twisted to look at the ceiling, inadvertently elbowing Miranda in the back as he did so, and sure enough there was the table, a teapot and three cups still on the surface in cheerful defiance of gravity.

"Sometimes England just offends my soul."

"We are in Scotland you twit."

Xxxxxxxx

Immortality tended to cultivate a need to have hobbies, and Catherine Malificent was old enough to become quite skilled in her chosen occupations. Any one fortunate enough to see her glass paintings would be in awe of her skill, but presently it was her other past time that occupied her mind.

She had been people watching, and was consequently quite amused by the world.

Mad Eye Moody was sulking, as was Dumbledore though he was more discreet about it. The other teachers were disturbed due to the general wrath of Madame Pomfrey, and Malfoys pack of rogues had gone from dark satisfaction to worried frustration seemingly overnight, presumably having hit a road block that they were unwilling to simply incinerate, and their displeasure was making the other students twitchy enough to actually focus on their homework.

They would all achieve excellent grades on their OWLs if this kept up. Few things focused the mind like fear.

Catherine smirked slightly. She was by no means easy with her unexpected circle of blood donors, their power was to rich in their veins for that, their motives to uncertain, but the intensity of the other students fear was still amusing. What strength was perceived in the Hit Squad to inspire such terror of a group that paid so little attention to those that feared them? Children were so strange.

She wondered how they would respond to the upcoming tournament. None were old enough to take part, unless she had sorely misjudged their ages, but they would still provide amusement no doubt.

Boredom was the plague of immortals, but she would be free of it for a time yet. Between Dumbledore and the Hit Squad she may even crave it before she ended her time here.

Xxxxxxxxx

There was something darkly amused in Yuki's expression as she read the notice, and it spread to Indigo as he read over her shoulder. Flare didn't seem to share the sentiment, but then he was less predatory that his blond almost siblings and tended to miss the things that had them in sadistic smirks.

Hermione eyed the trio and approached slowly. She did not fear them and never had, but they were a little alarming sometimes and after the Moody screw up anything that had them smirking like that almost had to be bad news for somebody.

"Those are not comforting smiles."

"Those are not comforting people." replied Flare, shrugging philosophically at his often malevolent friends. "The tournament shall begin soon. Friday's lesson will end half an hour early."

"Damn." How dare they intrude upon her potions lessons? It was one of the most difficult subjects at Hogwarts and she refused to do badly. "That does not explain the smirks."

"Durmstramg." purred Yuki, smiling wickedly. "Ivan Karkaroff is the headmaster there. He was a death eater."

"Severus hates him." stated Indigo. "He will eat the man alive."

"Well, that should be entertaining. I wonder how Moody will react to him." Hermione shifted from foot to foot, considering the notice. "Durmstrang is in Russia, isn't it?"

"Eastern block, certainly, but probably not quite Russia, it was built in the Holy Roman Empire."

"And Beauxbatons is in France, yes?"

"Founded by Eleanor of Aquitaine while she was Queen of France, she was a half blood, and a squib but that mattered less then." Indigo frowned slightly at nothing. "It was a girl's school until the schools in Spain fell after the Christian re-conquest. I have a cousin who attends; it is one of the few places that still accept students with obvious non-human blood."

"The culture of affairs has done some good then, I suppose." Hermione considered the writing, mind ticking away. "It cannot be coincidence that that the three European powers most often at war with one another participated in this tournament."

The trio looked at her, surprised and smiling oddly.

"Well, there was more than one reason for the body count, and with the prominence of our societies within the muggle governments during most of history, having a contained place to blow each other up was rather helpful."

Hermione nodded her satisfaction with the answer.

"We were mimicking the muggle wars. I suppose there were representatives of the Middle East during the crusades?"

"No, never anyone from outside of Europe." Flare smiled, odd and slightly wry. "Magic is used a bit differently outside of Europe, it tends to be more, ritual isn't quite the right word but it comes close. Things tend to be slower acting or highly symbolic, like voodoo."

"Magic is locationist?"

The idea was more than a little bizarre. The wizzarding world had no time for sexism, racism was a distant thing and homophobia was a non-entity. She had thought that their prejudices were entirely sunk in blood lines and house colours. This new facet was perplexing.

"Well, culture plays a large part as well, but essentially, yes. Europe has an abundance of ley lines, particularly in England and Wales. Hogwarts is on a nexus point, like Stone Henge, Glastonbury, the Houses of Parliament and a fair potion of the mountains in Wales. We are raised around them and something of that sticks." Indigo shrugged, turning away from the notice board. "It makes for a more, immediate access to environmental magic. Europe has a reasonable number, particularly in Italy, but there the only know nexus beyond the European continent are the poles, Jerusalem, the Forbidden City, Mount Fuji, and a few in the Sahara and the Amazon. All of the nexus in the Caribbean are underwater, and all the ones in Australia move around. A lot about Australia is weird."

"The duck billed platypus."

"That is an excellent summery."

"What about America?"

"Nothing north of Mexico city. Canada taps into the field in the Arctic Circle but the USA has nothing. Whatever might have been their once didn't survive the slaughter of the natives, the puritans and the various wars. They use faith magic, and that had a tendency to cause insanity, since its very basis is egomania."

"It is somewhat responsible for the fall of the Roman empire." mused Yuki. "Caligula and Nero both used it directly and it completely unhinged them. A few of the emperors of China went the same way, as well as the Aztecs as a whole. The Vatican City is an unexploded bomb and Jerusalem has been exploding for a while now."

"Why is none of this covered in History of Magic?"

"Because the Ministry is full of douche bags." said Flare, very earnest. "Any any pureblood child learns it from privet tutors when they are tiny so no-one bothers to make a fuss."

Well that would be the case wouldn't it? That would have to be fixed; clearly the Ministry would require extensive remodelling as soon as they had the time.

"One last question. Explain Tibet."

Indigo graced her with a rare laugh.

"Mia, there is no explanation for Tibet. There are no lay lines and the concentration of faith is completely untouched. It just is."

At least they would have plenty to do after graduation. Between fixing the Ministry and working out Tibet she and Tracy should be occupied for years to come.

xxxxxxxxxx

Harry received the news by way of Miranda, who caught him in passing as he went to charms just as she was leaving it.

"Moody is inexplicably smug. Watch yourself."

He accepted the warning with a silent nod, and was rather distracted though the lesson as he pondered the message and the messenger. He did not, could not, resent or object to the bond shared by Indigo and his sister, but it did strike him as a little peculiar. Goku had not, to his knowledge, received messages though their bond and Shar had possessed a steady awareness of his twin but they had never actively communicated though their connection. He knew that Indigo could send thought now; it was part of the empathy in a roundabout sort of way, but the power seemed heavily restricted and knowing Indigo that was more by choice than necessity. Yuki and Flare had that contact and he suspected the same of Luna and Jackie, while Miranda was clearly a favored messenger. Neville, however, had far less mental contact since the dementor incidents and Harry, for all of their silent communication and the grumbles about brain sharing, had never been broadcasted to.

It was rather curious. Why send a message though his sister when it could just as easily be sent direct? It could not be a matter of tricky thought patens or unknown reactions, Harry often felt that he knew the blondes mind better than he knew his own, and that was entirely mutual and had been even before the mind reading became an issue.

Flitwick sent them on their way with a reminder about the homework due on Friday. Tracy and Hazel went to their own contemplations once Miranda's message was passed on.

Then there was Moody's announcement that he was going to Imperio each of them, which certainly explained the smugness. It also gave them something to work with as it was completely illegal and regardless of how Fudge might feel about them Amelia Bones would have something to say about this.

It seemed that his year mates could be surprisingly acrobatic when properly motivated and, save for breaks to wake Hazel up when the spell simply caused him to faint and clear up the windows that an Imperio'd Tracy had shattered with a scream, things moved quickly. No one remained be-spelled for longer than a few minutes and Moody seemed genuinely pleased by those few capable of resisting. It almost made up for the obvious question, but not quite.

"You now, Potter."

Well, it was better to test it now, surrounded by witnesses, than later.

"_Imperio._"

There was dreamy unconcern and vague happiness and a opiate sweetness to send every worry to the mist and… His teeth ached but… Something was absent so… The voice said jump but why…

The next thing he was really aware of was Tracy punching him hard enough to knock him back, off his feet and into Hazel's hold. The desks that had been stacked against a wall were scattered across the room, his classmates were cowering and Moody was looking a little manic in a Full Body Bind.

"You can't kill him Harry. We're still in trouble for the dementor thing, at least poison him discreetly or something, you know you could pull it off." Hazel's whisper was almost frantic, his grip the painful side of tight. "We really aren't that good at memory spells you know."

"Nice punch." He could feel the bruise forming as he eased into the silver haired boys grip. "I would never have guessed. What happened, and is your hand alright?"

"I shall have bruised knuckles, but I do know how to hit someone without hurting myself. You tried to maim Professor Moody with a desk."

"I see. That is a useful sort of reaction to have. The, er, body bind?"

"It seemed prudent." She rubbed her hand, tone bland and eyes sharp. "You have a hard jaw bone."

"Let's go to Madam Pomfrey." said Hazel, voice shaking and not loosening his grip. "You two have bruises and she makes wonderful hot chocolate."

"That does sound rather nice, but perhaps we should release the Professor first?"

Hazels hand clenched for a moment, an impulsive rejection of the idea, and Harry relaxed further into his arms. Hazel had never been particularly bloodthirsty, and had not gained, should never gain, the broken edges of his previous life. But he was learning the urge to destroy those who harmed his friends, and it may not be a safe or sane trait to pass on, but it was a useful one.

"I suppose we have to."

Moody nodded to them once he was able.

"Go on. And well done. All three of you, very well done."

Harry could hear him talking as they left, saying that was how they did it, that was the right response. The pleasure in his voice, the strange off center pride, was actually more unnerving than anything else.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"I think someone is tampering with my mail."

Julian slowly straightened from his homework and shifted the mental gears needed to process Susan's statement. Clearly some response was called for, and with Neville and Hannah with their respective Slytherins and Hazel off somewhere that would have to come from him.

"Why do you believe that is so?"

"My aunt always spells any letter she sends to ensure that it reaches its correct recipient. There is no magic on this parchment." Susan looked at him, still turning the unopened letter in her hands. "She did not reach her position though carelessness."

"Then we have a serious problem, do we not?"

"Quite. Particularly as anyone taking the trouble to intercept my mail is unlikely to stop at only taking _my _mail, if you take my meaning." She glared at the letter and the slightly smudged wax seal. "I think I shall curse the parchment in future. Amelia always checks her post anyway."

"Some might call that paranoid."

"It isn't paranoia when you actually are out to get them."

"Oh." Julian considered her words for a few moments. "That seems a little backwards somewhere."

"My family have been in law enforcement for generations. I assure you it isn't."

* * *

><p>Next time: Arrivals and Probable Politics<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

Sum: Tournaments, politics crossdressing, weapons and too many cousins. The TriWizard Tournament at Hogwarts, because they can't have a peaceful year. Yoai, yuri, het, language, violence, etc.

The Weird Someone: You didn't.

Lotus seed: I shares the crazy!

Umei no mai: Cheers

Firehedgehog: Cheers

kitta 160: I'm trying gov' honest.

Chaos Babe: oh yes.

Kouru-Kage: Avengers may come later, Loki rocks. It is a good word!

Laesk: So do I, it's not decided yet.

Celesta SunStar: The mess shall be great and terrible

Silver-Moon-Light94: Thank you!

unkNOWncat: Glad to be of service. Malificent is sort of my reaction as well. Maybe it's a writer thing.

to save or raze: My muse is a capricious little sod.

Tsukiyoko Natsume: Life gets in the way.

**Authors note**: I meant to get this beta read, but than my muse fled to warmer climates, and people have been asking. So here it is in it's primary, typo ridden form. You want the neat version, you are going to have to wait a while.

* * *

><p><span>Arrivals and Probable Politics<span>

"Have you had the 'stand with your house' speech as well?"

Hermione turned and beamed at her friend, fighting back the blush at Tracy's soft smile.

"Yes. I believe that we should grab Hannah and Yuki, as they are approximately our height and separating the group could become embarrassing."

"That strikes me as a most charming diversion. Could we, perhaps, acquire the Carrow twins along the way?"

"Am eminently reasonable suggestion."

They linked arms and meandered through the crowd, a path clearing for them, seemingly by magic but owing rather more to Hermione's immediately recognisable hair and judicious use of their boots. Most people glared when they were first kicked on the ankle, but soon recognised them and edged out of the way. Infamy was fun, and also useful, even when softened by the near celebratory air of anticipation that held the night, leaving the students murmuring and the teachers twitching.

"We heard that you wished to see use."

"A most curious state of events."

The Carrow twins smiled brightly, and Hermione and Tracy shared a look.

"Indigo told you then?"

"Not the princeling but his sister, perhaps by his will."

"Near certainly by his will. Your reasons, if you please?"

"To make the teachers twitch in an entertaining manner." stated Tracy blandly.

The Carrow's shared a glance, and cheerfully turned themselves into bookends.

"Need we others?"

"We were thinking of grabbing Hannah." said Hermione, trying to remember their first names and coming up with nothing. "To round us out. Why princeling?"

"Malfoy money, Malfoy power, Black obsession and a lovely powerbase." She smiled oddly, petting the muggelborns arm. "He knows where we stand."

"Is it always like this in Slytherin?"

"Alas, there are aristocrats in an enclosed area and shit shall happen. Oh, look, an Abbess."

The descended on Hannah as the teachers finally gave up on house boundaries and took what order they could get, bullying their students into lines.

"Miss Patil, get that ridiculous thing out of your hair."

McGonagall sounded almost offended, and they looked over to see Padma Patil take a huge ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait, and a Carrow muttered about over compensation until Tracy, head tilted slightly, mused aloud on its possible uses as a weapon.

"I don't think she'd do that." Hannah weakly protested the Gryffindors good nature, and then straitened slightly. "Besides, her hair would need to be longer to do any real harm."

"Yes, she is more likely to hit herself in the face with it as it is." agreed a Carrow blithely. "I expect she'd trying to compensate for the fact that her sister being prettier than she is."

"They are identical." Hermione watched in slightly detached fascination as the tips of Parvati's ears slowly darkened.

"And yet, somehow…" The Carrow twins actually had rather different speech patens when not actively trying to be unnerving, but Hermione was too used to the Nutters to find it comforting.

"Padma has dignity, Parvati does not." Tracy spoke with the air of a woman settling the matter. "It's 6 o'clock. Any bets on how they are getting here?"

"In the most spectacular manner possible." muttered Hannah, who was trying to act like she didn't know them, despite the arm linked immovably with hers. "I think I see something, over there."

Dumbledore confirmed it a second later, and an interesting excitement broke out as one 1st year proved to have absolutely no concept of a dragons anatomy, and Creevy the younger proved that he had slightly more sense as a huge and inappropriately coloured carriage hurtled down, the vast pegasi kicking up chunks of turf as they trotted their way to a halt.

The crest on the door was considerably more elegant than Hogwart's coat of arms, implying that this was the Beaubatons delegation; a thought confirmed when the door was flung open by a boy in blue silk, who unfolded some steps and backed up with a respectful bow. Anyone from the Eastern Black would probably ware furs in simple self preservation, and would, if the stereotypes could be believed, find the mere offer of stairs rather insulting.

A supremely elegant and absolutely enormous shoe came into view, soon followed by a woman of similar proportions and style. It was a little strange that a lady –something about her demanded that she be called a lady- of Hagrids height would feel the need for heels, but she was fabulously turned out in opals and black satin and extremely attractive, once you looked past the minor issue of her size.

"Well, that explains the acceptance of the obviously non-human." Hermione couldn't quite stop the smirk. "Infidelity and creative use of magic in sex, huh?"

"God bless the French." purred a Carrow.

"My dearest, Briton just disowned you in sheer affront."

"Actually Scotland was mostly on good terms with France due to the wine trade."

There was a long moment of half fascinated, half perplexed silence.

"That is fascinating Tracy." said Hannah at last, one eye on the French people heading inside. "But why do you know?"

"I am a Ravenclaw madam. I do not need a reason to know things."

Xxxxxxxx

"That is Victor Krum."

"It is indeed."

"Actually Victor Krum."

"We know Ronald, we were up the world cup as well, remember?"

"I wasn't." Millicent eyed Harry sideways, only to find herself gazed at with a direct and distinct cool.

"You could have been had you wished to be, or you could view the memories and we both know it, so none of that thank you."

She subsided under his vaguely maternal disapproval.

"Victor Krum is actually here." breathed Ron, who wasn't listening. "Will we get to see him fly? What's he think of us? What's he like? Whoa…"

"Surprisingly shy." Indigo's tone was absent, his eyes a little unfocused. "Karkaroff is making him uncomfortable, more uncomfortable than normal that is. Fleur says hi."

"And who is Fleur?"

"His cousin." Millicent answered, since Indigo's mind was clearly, and literally, elsewhere. "Malfoy side of the family, a shared great grandmother I think. He probably isn't talking to us."

"It is rarely wise to have several conversations at once. Which would you like to steer?" Harry gestured to their vacant companions, who didn't seem to have noticed the crowd start moving, and Millicent silently grabbed Ron and hauled him off, leaving Harry with an absent blond and the realisation that she dragged the redhead around a lot. Which was interesting, but probably didn't bare contemplation.

The crowd gave them a good berth. Harry poked the blond hard in the ribs. Indigo twitched violently, and then raised an eyebrow. Harry raised his in response.

"I was talking to my cousins."

"You missed Ron's dip into fanboy-ism. There was an unacceptable lack of snark."

"Have your vocal cords been damaged?"

They ended up at the Ravenclaw table, with Luna directly opposite, and were swiftly joined by a tall, shapely girl in blue, dramatically pale and just…

Harry smacked himself sharply around the face, and the three blonds smiled.

"'e es interesting. Ah may keep 'im."

"Yeah. Right. Good luck with that."

She smirked, kissed Luna's cheek and settled beside the younger girl, striking up conversation in fluent French and ignoring the many love struck stares directed towards her.

Harry had a terrible urge to start speaking Cantonese at them.

"Is there anyone you aren't related to?"

"Certainly. Just no-one blond, pureblood and European. Heads up."

The assorted head teachers arrived, the Beaubatons students jumping to their feet at Madam Maxine's arrival and not sitting until she did. A few people laughed, but the general feeling was of bemused apathy, and Dumbledore drew their attention easily enough.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and most importantly guests. I have great pleasure in introducing you to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both enjoyable and comfortable." The expressions of the French doubted his sanity. "The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you to eat. Drink and make yourselves at home."

He settled, food arrived in greater variety than was normal, Karkaroff leaned towards Dumbledore, Hagrid arrived with bandaged hands and a cheerful expression, and Madame Maxine and Professor Malificent proceeded to very politely pretend that the other didn't exist.

"Fascinating. The empty seats must be for the judges, we will need someone impartial after all."

"'Zey will be English, and not 'empartial at all." stated Fluer, eyeing a steak and kidney pudding with very real alarm. "What 'es zis?"

"You will be happier not knowing. Have some soup."

She accepted Luna's suggestion with perfect grace.

"Veela, I presume?"

"My grandmother." Deep blue eyes turned steely. "Will 'zat be a problem?"

Harry gave her a look of utterly amused distain and poked Indigo in the side.

"Eat or I will feed you. Mutual great grandmother?"

"Polite society insists that it never happened. Also." He made a rude gesture.

Luna giggled, saw their expressions and giggled a bit more. Fleur glanced between the three of them and slowly smiled. They exchanged a glance.

"I am going to sit with Miranda."

"You cannot hide behind your sister."

The retreating male gave a laugh of pure derision at what was, in hindsight, a very silly assertion.

Xxxxxxxxxx

The colours between Malificent and Madame Maxine were fascinating, even ignoring McGonagall and Flitwick, who were always interesting anyway. The play of gleaming black and honeyed blue was glorious. Crouch and Bagman spoilt the image a bit, but he could ignore them.

Susan tugged sharply on his hair.

"What are they doing here?" She was hissing, which was weird.

"The tournament I expect, does it matter?" He tipped his head, picking out threads of crimson and silver. "Is there some sort of secret war going on between giants and vampires."

I doubt it, giants are too big to eat and vampires are too fast to crush." She paused, considering. "They probably hate each other but can't do anything about it. And a ministry presence at Hogwarts cannot be good."

"They aren't an important presence."

"Reading our mail, Dean."

"We don't know that's the ministry, it is just as likely Dumbledore. Anyway, we do all our plotting in person."

"Yes, but we do have outside contractors, now hush. This could be important."

He blinked at her a few times, and sure enough the plates cleared and Dumbledore stood and smiled benevolently at them, resulting in rapt attention and twitching fingers on the more violent and cynical of his students.

"The moment has come, the Triwizzard Tournament is about to start. I would like to explain a few things before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure we shall follow this year. But first, for those who do not know them, I introduce Mr Bartimus Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sport."

There was applause, mostly for Mr Bagman who was more appealing in that regard. Crouch was recognised and respectable, but unnerving.

"Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizzard Tournament and will join Madame Maxine, Professor Karkaroff and myself on the panel that will judge the champions efforts. Now, the casket if you please Mr Filch."

It was gaudy, so naturally it had everyone's attention.

"The instructions for the tasks that the champions will face have already been examined by Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman, and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks throughout the school year to test the champions in different ways. Their magic, daring and of course, their ability to deal with danger. As you know one will be chosen from each school, and they will be marked on their performance in the tasks, and the one with the highest score will win the cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector, the Goblet of Fire."

It was precisely what it sounded like, but was, perplexingly, made of wood which was certainly impressive, but seemed an unnecessary complication.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as a champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of paper and drop it in the Goblet. Tomorrow night, Halloween , the Goblet will return the names of those it feels most worthy to represent their school. The Goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight for those who wish to compete; however, to protect our younger students from temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire. No-one under 17 will be able to cross."

It was a moments work to decipher the colours declaring that the Nutters were gagging to get in, and that Indigo would really, really like to play with that Age Line. So interesting things were going to happen.

"Finally I must impress upon you that entering your name into the Goblet is a magically binding contract, and should you be chosen as champion there can be no change of heart. Now, it is time for bed. Goodnight."

He twinkled at them and pulled a vanishing act.

"TO THE BATMOBILE!"

Miranda charged through the gathering crowd, her path cleared by a combination of the shout, her own developing reputation and the fact that she was dragging a bemused but content Harry behind her.

"The what?" asked Hannah, baffled.

"The fictional bat-themed automobile of a muggle superhero." cheered Dean.

Hazel looked at him funny.

"Shush. I'm an artist, I'm aloud to be a nerd."

"Is she going to steal the Beaubatons carriage?"

This was considered, and deemed disturbingly plausible.

-_Calling the Hit Squad. To HQ please, it seems that we have matters to discus.-_

"Because that isn't ominous at all." snaked Susan automatically.

_-Bite me. Miranda and Harry asked.- _

"Can anyone else hear this?"

-_Probably not, unless you were referring to your talking to nothing, which is defiantly audible. Get a move on.-_

A sense of not-there-ness replaced Indigo's voice.

"Does anyone else suddenly have a headache?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Their room felt smaller than normal, with all of them here, Miranda pacing slow loops around the room, Indigo all but radiating that he had a headache and Harry frowning, which was unusual enough to be unnerving. Adding Ron, who was sulking because he had just started talking to Krum when the summons came, to this already unpleasant mix made the atmosphere rather oppressive.

With this in mind Millicent gave the redhead a sharp kick.

"Quit sulking, they were heading off anyway."

"Logically I know that. But only logically." He eyeballed Harry. "What's goin' on?"

"Politics." purred Miranda, darkly gleeful. "Inter school politics."

"Must you sound-"

"-so happy about that?"

"She must." stated Harry absently. "Dumbledore is currently so discredited, since the little invasion last year, that the other schools are looking to knock Hogwarts of its perch. The tournament, or rather the competition between the students, presents an opportunity to do just that."

"Um…" Neville looked a little bit embarrassed.

"If the Beaubatons champion bets the Hogwarts champion, then Beaubatons must be providing a better education." Millicent was simply thinking aloud, frowning slightly as she chased down the implications. "So its reputation improves, drawing in more students, more money and more prestige."

"How much more can Dumbledore take?" asked Miranda sweetly. "Before he becomes an embarrassment and is removed, for the good of the school of course."

"What do you have against him?" It was Hazel who asked, clearly unnerved.

She slid into Indigo's lap, wrapped her arms around her brother's neck, rested her forehead against his, and grinned. She looked very, very like her aunt.

"Oh, it's nothing personal."

Millicent fought down her answering grin. It was easy enough to understand her reasoning, if you knew her blood lines and the context. Dumbledore offended her kin, did them harm, and he would bleed for that when she got her way.

"Interesting. Sabotage then? Hogwarts had rested upon its laurels for more than long enough." She frowned as Jackie swore softly. "What?"

"We were going to enter, us the prize money as start up funds for our joke shop. You could bring down the Age Line, right Indigo?"

"95% certainty, though getting it up again might be beyond me." He blinked slowly, still leaning into his sister. "You need not compete for funds Jackie, we're happy to finance you."

"That would be nepotism."

"Only a little, and only because we know that you're good." protested Flare.

"We can make it a loan if you like." snapped Tracy, waving the issue off. "Harry. What is it?"

"I… I am uncertain if we should get involved."

It was just instinct to glance at Miranda, but sure enough she was, for a moment, a vision of near inhuman rage, quickly quelled but still there in potential.

"Explain that one." Before Miranda exploded.

"It is unlikely that Hogwarts will win anyway. There seems to be a far wider variety of magic taught at Beaubatons, and I suspect that that the same is true of Durmstrag, and they have only their best here. The best of Hogwarts is in this room, and we are largely self-taught. Few others can say they fight Death Eaters, and few of those would enter the competition. We already have to deal with the fake Moody, whoever is reading our mail and whatever Dumbledore can throw at us between tasks, not to mention our little arrangement with Professor Malificent. Aiding one of our number though the tournament, or sabotaging the selected champion in addition to all that, well, it sticks me as an unnecessary risk." He glanced around, green eyes worried. "The last thing we need is more attention."

Silence fell and stretched. They were, she finally realised, waiting for indigo to agree or disagree, but their erstwhile captain stayed apart from it. Silent, one arm lose around Miranda, knee against Flare's shoulder, hand just touching Yuki's. He looked exhausted.

"Indigo, you look terrible."

"Shut up or you don't get your axe."

She would make him sleep. His sibling and quasi-siblings would help.

"Harry is right." stated Susan, stepping in. "Fudge just needs an excuse and Moody would make a damn good spy with that eye. It's too risky."

Julian murmured his agreement, and the rest slowly surrendered to their will.

"It is a loan, okay?" George eyed them all mistrustfully. "As in paid back with interest. No turning it into a present halfway through. We are not Percy and you are not buying us a house."

"Work out how much you need first." commanded Tracy, giving Hermione a hand up and smiling at her far from secret crush. "But now, to bed."

That was such an invitation, though not a terribly illicit one.

"Do you think the Age Line is up yet?"

For such a smart boy, he certainly needed a lot of looking after.

"Yuki, if you stun him, I transport him and Flare and Miranda keep watch I am almost certain we can get him to the dorm without the teachers seeing."

Ron laughed and for now, for this little while, everything was good.

* * *

><p>Next time, probably: 'I want a lawyer'<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

Sum: Tournaments, politics crossdressing, weapons and too many cousins. The TriWizard Tournament at Hogwarts, because they can't have a peaceful year. Yoai, yuri, het, language, violence, etc.

Chaos Babe: I now really want to get someone to sue them. You derail my plot line!

Lotus seed: Chaos is always fun.

lordamnesia: Doing my best

Firehedgehog: Good

The Weird Someone: Figure of speech. McGonagall wouldn't let them turn themselves into bookends.

* * *

><p><span>'I want a lawyer'<span>

The Nutters prowled the dark hallways, armed and dangerous and debating.

"We can't hit McGonagall. She'll know it was us and she'll make us suffer."

"I know, I know, but Dumbledore doesn't have any dignity left to lose."

"What about Bagman? We owe him a bad turn."

"He would enjoy it, the bastard."

They moved on in silence, darkly contemplating the utter unfairness of dishonourable sneaky people with a sense of humour. Who did Bagman think he was, stealing their mojo like that?

"We could go for Crouch."

"I thought he had left."

"No, he's still on the map, in fake Moody's office. Alone."

"Well that isn't suspicious at all is it? It would be so much easier if we could track fake Moody on the map, or even just use it around him."

"Can't risk it, not with that eye of his."

"I know, it's just a right- what's that noise?"

The thud-bounce noise continued, coming closer. They shared a look, ducked behind a suit of armour and watched in intrigued confusion as what looked like a quad bike trailer bumped its way down the stairs, its large wheels moving ever faster, rolled into a wall, bounced off, hit a statue at a funny angle and toppled over. The crate on top came half open and a few hairy, things, about the size of a child's head. The indistinct and embarrassed sounds of someone with their foot caught in a vanishing step reached them, and Jackie took advantage of the owners preoccupation to borrow a knife from a suit of armour and hooked one of the things so they could inspect it by the light of Fred's wand.

It was a spider, a very large spider, with fangs and, on closer inspection, empty poison sacks.

Indigo, short a shoe but plus above the elbow dragon hide gloves and a nasty looking set of tongs, came into view. The Nutters stared at him, spider still upraised, expressions unchanging.

"I needed acid."

They didn't as much as twitch. He shifted uncomfortably for a moment.

"Shut up and help me hide the bodies."

Xxxxxxxxx

It was Saturday, everyone was up early, the Goblet of Fire sat proudly at the centre of a thin gold circle and several loaves of dropped pieces of toast marked where people had fled from the bouncy rocket powered go-kart that a trio of lunatics were utterly failing to control. They were also tracking mud, so if the ride didn't kill them, Filch would.

"What the carthacking hell are you playing at?!"

The shout destroyed what scat control they had, they shot across the age line, there was a loud sizzling noise and the Nutters were hurled out of the go-kart, which crumpled against a wall, and they landed ten feet back with long, lustrous beards and half gleeful expressions, which faded quickly under their professors glare.

"What was that supposed to be?" snarled Malificent, more that a hit of fang on show. "Other that a display of blatant stupidity?"

"Testing-"

"No steering wheel-"

"The firework-"

"Enough." she glowered down at them. "Three weeks detention with Mr Filch and 50 points from Gryffindor. Go to Madame Pomfrey. Now."

"But that's-"

"You endangered yourselves and others! Get"

They got, beards trailing behind them like strange, fluffy banners. Malificent glared them from the room and stalked off to breakfast. Harry and Ron, watching from beside the wreckage, exchanged a glance.

"That was interesting."

"No kiddin'. You think they get protective of their food?"

"It is possible, of course. And as a teacher she must feel somewhat responsible."

"Point." He considered Harry from the corner of his eye. "Got the feeling that shit is about to go down?"

"Just a little, yes. Breakfast?"

"Sure. Think we can get the bats to dive bomb the Huffelpuffs?"

"I expect we could, but since when did you have anything against the Huffelpuffs?"

"Since never man, but the Slytherins would hold a grudge, the Gryffindors would throw things and the Ravenclaws could probably do I better."

"Huffelpuff it is then."

Madame Maxine and her students entered 5 minutes later to a scene of shrieking, laughing students and attack bats. It took them all of 20 seconds to retreat, and clearly the French were taking home horror stories of the uncivilised islanders. _Excellent. _

Xxxxxxxxxx

The summer was fading faster than they wanted it to, that first bright burn energy slipping away from skin. Winters power was returning, taking the autumn.

"Pushing too hard again." Yuki laced her fingers though Indigo's. let him feel the cool strength of her power, testing the power of his flames. "Why is it so vital?"

"Has to be done by midwinter."

"How long before things can reliably start going wrong? A reasonable estimate I suppose, the Dark Lord has significantly increased resources, and you are expecting to lose yours if you would but tell me why. "she considered his bitten figure nails and a burn mark on the thumb. "You have lied to me, for as long as I have known you. Now tell me that secret, my not-brother, and you may keep this new poison. How old are you?"

"14." He paused, eyes blank. "And 24, and 253 which was young for the place and the species, and 11 but on a different calendar. The present one was in effect but we were in a realm slightly to the left of this one, it had a 26 hour day."

"Body snatching."

"Mostly re-incarnation actually, but in this instant, yes. Accidental body snatching due to a summoning ritual, resulting in the retention of past life memories." He turned slightly, caught her eye. "You don't really care."

"You are my brother, who happens to be 300 years old, which explains a lot but there we are. I needed to know." She knew the shade of his eyes, knew how different it was from his immediate family. "What happened to Draco?"

"Something remains, but he was barely formed when I took possession, and he cannot develop with me here. I take up to much room."

"He would have been very different."

"He would have had a father." Lightning danced over the empty hand. "And not a good one, but who knows. I suspect he is resilient if nothing else."

"No doubt. You slept late again, and we are going to the kitchens right now."

"I am considerably more than 15 times your age woman, cease and desist."

"I will stop mothering you when you stop being so bloody silly and not before." She looked at him sideways. "You really are very bad at being cared about."

"I was always, angry, and independent."

"Well that certainly hasn't changed. Move it dead boy, we ain't got all day."

He moved, a crooked half smile on his lips.

Xxxxxxxxx

"I really don't like this."

Ron looked at her sideways, saw the twitches I her shoulders and looked to Neville for help in handling his more paranoid housemate, because Susan was Susan and not to be poked with sticks. Only Neville was eating.

"Which 'this' are you talking about?"

"All of them. To many new people, Dumbledore is to smug, we can't track everyone and Karkaroff should be in jail and not bothering us."

"Ease up, we have no leg to stand on with the justice league." He eyed her wearily. "Seriously, chill out. We can't do nothin' right now."

"I know." She cast a black look over the hall. "Can't they eat faster?"

Considering that this was the second feast in as many days, and that everyone was more interested in getting on that food, probably not. They weren't Neville or anything. He was cheerfully packing roast beef away and growling at anyone who got too close to a particular apple pie. Some things changed, and some sorta didn't, though with the more sedentary lifestyle the monkey would soon be sumo sized. Gorilla sized? Whatever, no-one else was going to be one, cause that would be silly.

"I hate waiting."

"Preach lieutenant. Chill out, eat cake."

He got one of the three, which, kind of sucked actually. But then the food vanished before Neville had finished his pie which just made Ron happy, it was the little whimper, it just made everything better. Plus the extra head teachers were looking twitchy, and that was fun.

Dumbledore was twinkling at them though. Not so much fun.

"The goblet is almost ready to make its decision, perhaps a minute more. Now, when the champions are called I would ask them to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table and go though into the next chamber where they will receive their first instructions."

He waved his wand, the lights went out and the goblet looked brighter than ever. You could have shanked the tension. People kept checking their watches, it was all kind of crap really.

The fire turned red, sparks flew, a flame shot towards the ceiling, a scorched strip of parchment fell free and Dumbledore, with remarkable reflexes for someone his age, caught it.

"The champion for Durmstrang will be Victor Krum."

Well that was a surprise to absolutely no-one at all. The depressed way he slouched off, maybe a little. Seemed like he wanted some time off as well.

"The champion for Beaubatons will be Fleur Delacour!"

The maybe veela then, rocking some serious style there, while her schoolmates succumbed to various degrees of despair. Overreaction there, a whole lot of overreaction.

"The Hogwarts champion will be Cedric Diggory."

Ron covered his ears a second before the every single Huffelpuff leapt to feet, stomping and screaming their approval as their Quidditch captain moved past them, blushing slightly. It took them a while to stop.

"Excellent! Well, now we have our three champions! I am sure I can count on all of you, including the remaining students from Beaubatons and Durmstrang to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By- oh my."

The flames had turned red again, there was another slip of parchment, and Dumbledore's beard twitched when he looked at it. Maybe a smile.

"Harry Potter."

Silence. Perfect silence.

"Excuse me?" Harry's voice was soft, and even, and inhumanly pissed. "Excuse me? It spat out my name? What the carthaking hell? I did not put my name in that thing. I am doing my potions N.E.W.T this year. I have more important things to do!"

"Mr Potter, though to the chamber if you please."

"I do not please." It was the even-ness that did it. Hopefully he'd start yelling soon. "I did not enter. I will not compete. You cannot make me and it would be extremely unwise to try."

Dumbledore frowned sternly, and Snape stepped in to prevent the headmaster being violently murdered before witnesses.

"Potter. We will discuss the matter in privet."

There was a brief but extremely tense stare down.

"I want a lawyer."

"And where do you expect us to get one of those?"

"Then I want Susan and Indigo as they add up to more or less the same thing."

The potions master gave a dismissive half shrug. Indigo rose a second later, leaving his housemates without a backwards glance, and Susan scowled at everything before jerking to her feet and stalking to Harry's side. Ron watched them go and pondered the damage they might do.

"This is gonna get ugly."

Neville hummed his agreement as the silence shattered and everyone finally started talking.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The boys were being very quiet ant Susan didn't much care for it. Not with the way Harry was scowling, not with Indigo's china doll stillness and creepy little smile. Some role reversal was just not meant to happen. And to top it all off the portraits were giving them the stink eye.

The champions had gathered around the fire, silhouetted with a certain elegance against the flames. Only Fleur turned to look at them, and flinched when she did.

"I do not like 'zat smile Indigo, what 'as 'appened?"

"Harry is a champion, cousin."

"Bullshit." The part veela's accent all but vanished under the force of her disbelief.

"I agree completely." Growled Harry, glaring at Bagman as bounced in.

"Extraordinary!" muttered the man with no self preservation instincts. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen, lady, may I introduce-"

"Do not finish that thought." Susan fixed him with a steely stare. "Harry did not enter his name, no contract has been formed. He has no desire or obligation to participate, nor is he old enough to do so."

"Well, it's unexpected." Bagman rubbed his chin, uneasy under her eyes. "But the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And his name came out of the Goblet… I mean, I don't think there is any ducking out now, it's in the rules, you're obliged."

"I would think that the one who entered the name is obliged." murmured Indigo softly, a dangerous little smile on his lips. "That was not Harry, so there is no real issue of his needing to compete."

The head teachers, Crouch, McGonagall and Snape entered, the voices of the excited students drifting in behind them. Madame Maxine looked particularly enraged, and Fleur clearly knew it.

"Madame Maxine! Zey are saying zat 'Arry is to compete also! Ogwarts cannot 'ave to champions, et 'es not to be born!"

"Ah quiet agree. It is most unjust."

"We are in complete agreement, Madame." Indigo spoke softly, looking up at the giantess though his ridiculous eyelashes. "Harry didn't enter, he doesn't want to compete. We need only find the one responsible fore this nonsense and the matter may be, quietly resolved."

"Oh?" she looked to Harry, black eyes gleaming. "You would withdraw?"

"Gleefully, madam. Even were I not fully occupied I have no wish to so, sabotage the selected champions."

"Then you shall withdraw, an' we shall forget ze matter."

"I am afraid that will not be possible." Crouch spoke curtly. "Those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete."

Jewel toned eyes moved to Susan, and she bit her lip. Crouch did have a remarkable memory for these things.

"I demand to resubmit the names of my students. Set up the Goblet of Fire once more, we will continue add names until each school has two champions. It is only fair Dumbledore."

"It doesn't work like that." said Bagman, apparently baffled. "The Goblet has gone out; it won't reignite until the next tournament-"

"-in which Durmstrang will certainly not be competing! After all of our meetings and negotiations and compromises I little expected something of this nature to occur" I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat." Moody growled at him from the door way. "Can't leave your champion now, he's got to compete. They all have got to compete. Binding magical contract. Convenient, eh?"

"Shit."

"Susan?"

"He's right Harry. This thing has a body count, and you're on the top of every Death Eater wannabe's hit list. And with the Rockwoods and the Lestranges on the loose… Anyone who wants to impress them, or buy their way out of their black books…"

"They wouldn't bother. Not after last year." Indigo contemplatively twirled one of Miranda's knives around his fingers. "They might be insane but they are not stupid, and the ignorant would attack you directly. There is another game in play. What is the nature of the contract? How is it formed?"

"Upon the selection of the champions the Goblet binds them to compete. Withdrawal may result in the loss of magic."

"Well." Indigo kept the knife moving, and Crouch didn't so much as twitch. "That is convenient. Who's bright idea was that?"

"Mr Malfoy, as fascinating as this is-"

The knife went though his beard.

"You failed to prevent so much as paper aeroplanes. You do not get to talk."

"I beg your pardon-"

"But you have not earned it." Susan glared at her headmaster, having followed Indigo's comment and realized that the Age Line, subject to slytherin scrutiny, had proven woefully inadequate. "Harry I can't see a way out of this and I really don't like it."

"I see. Indigo?"

"Getting your name into the Goblet was nothing. Anyone could do it. But getting you and Diggory out, that took some doing, not easy to whammy and inanimate object. I am grudgingly impressed." He reclaimed the knife, a sharp movement, careless of Dumbledore's glare. "Increased threat to all taking part, and everyone in the school since the perpetrator must have had access to arrange this. I don't know enough about such contracts to break them safely, your N.E.W.T's are going to have to wait."

Harry swore. Susan didn't recognize the language, just the tone.

"Well!" Bagman beamed at little desperately. "This will be exciting won't-"

A beaters reflexes and Harry's less than perfect aim let him dodge the knife, the portrait behind him squeaked and fled when the blade went straight though the frame and sparked against the stone behind.

"_I know where you sleep_." The snarled held a strange, heady resonance, something you did not expect a human to be able to make. Even Snape looked surprised by it, and Bagman actually whimpered.

"No you don't Harry. But we can find out if you want."

"And then send goblins." Indigo smiled pleasantly at Bagman, who didn't seem to notice the threat in it. "Let's call it a night shall we?"

"May as well." It was Moody who spoke, clanking over to retrieve the knife. "Good weight, lovely balance."

"My sister has excellent taste." The knife vanished into a sleeve. "Is it worth doing damage control? They've already left the hall."

"We've never cared before." She hauled the enraged Ravenclaw though the doorway, attention more on the too calm Slytherin behind than Harry, who didn't seem inclined to do anything just yet. "Summon the Hit Squad."

"Very well. Goodnight Fleur."

"Goodnight cousin."

The door clicked shut behind them The Great Hall dim as the candles burnt low.

"I am really not at all happy about this."

"We have notice, Ari, truly we have."

Xxxxxxxx

Their HQ was packed, the Hit Squad joined by assorted Munchkins for the occasion.

"We're fucked aren't we?" Flare was gently irked, eyes on Indigo.

"For the given value thereof, yes."

Tracy and Julian made room for Harry's wrathful silence, Indigo settled at Yuki's feet, clearly thinking deeply, and Susan watched them all.

"I think we can safely call this an attack. We need information, and we need allies. We all hold some sway in our house's, so we tell them our side of the story. Harry's reaction in the Great Hall has already done the ground work for us, it should be hard to bring most people around. But we do not walk alone anymore, someone in Hogwarts is a danger to us and we will not let him think us easy targets. Extending some protection to the other champions may also be advisable."

"I understood all of that except the last bit." Ron was always quick to confess his confusion.

"They could be manipulated into targeting Harry." stated Millicent.

"He would total them."

"A satisfying but not helpful course of action."

"Hate it when that Happens. Mia, my bro's, my not actually bro just yet, let's get going 'for someone gets ideas. Creavy, got blackmail?"

"Of course."

"Bitchin'."

* * *

><p>Next time: Respect is lovely, but fear works too<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

Mein Gott, that took ages. Sorry forks.

Umei no Mai: Yeah, Ron and Indy get a lot of the best lines. not sure why.

Lotus seed: Thank you sweetie.

lordamnesia: Cheers! And Harry, he's the quiet one, and you know what they say about them.

Firehedgehog: Good.

The Weird Someone: Your welcome, and I'm not actually sure. That scene came from writers block frustrations, it just seemed like something he might want. Some engravings use acid etchings though, something like that maybe?

Daughter of Jehova: She let the arsehole in, but never mind, the castle will probably still be standing at the end of the year. Blowing up the school before they graduate would just be silly!

* * *

><p>Respect is lovely, but fear works too<p>

The next day maintained a certain steady tension, a steady note of terror that had half the students flinching at unexpected noises and the other half hexing shadows. It was only fortunate that it was not a school day, as clearly no-one would be able to focus long enough to learn a damn thing, even if the teachers could pull themselves together for long enough to teach.

Catherine Malificent thought that it was absolutely hilarious. Much as she might resist it, she was a vampire, a predator, and watching the sheeple jump and twitch before her little pack of donors filled her with an unholy glee, an almost maternal pride.

The Hit Squad was swooping about the castle, library to HQ to Hagrid's hut and back again, piles of books in their arms and faces grim. All of their owls were gone, with letters to family or lawyers or allies. The corridors emptied where they walked. Her donors, her morally dubious, probably murderous, utterly infamous, almost certainly going to blackmail her as soon as it became useful to do so pack of donors. Her donors who would probably take over the United Kingdom by accident once they graduated. She was completely screwed when they turned on her, but she couldn't be more proud of them.

They might bring her down and tear her up, but damn it, no-one else had donors as dangerous as hers.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Um, Potter? You, er, you should see this."

The little Ravenclaw trembled slightly under Harry's death green stare, but held her ground until he accepted the newspaper. Then she fled the hall.

Harry unfolded the news paper, read the front page with unwavering focus and carefully folded it up again to be returned later. He was a picture of serenity, right up until the point when you looked at his hands and saw that he was, either by magic or just amazingly stronger fingernails, leaving pale marks in the varnished surface as he gouged out thickening curls of wood. And then you moved discreetly away and located the nearest exit.

"Mr Diggory, if you should talk to your father you might remind him to vent his displeasure in a less slanderous fashion. This entire ghastly business is quite unpleasant enough without having to get the lawyers involved, I would rather not make it even worse."

At the teachers table Snape took a slow breath at this understated threat. Amos was a Ministry man, with a bad habit of running his mouth. Once Harry won the lawsuit, and he would win because he was still the Boy-Who-Lived no matter what Fudge did, others would follow. The Diggorys would be so much dust by the end of it and Cedric, mild mannered, even tempered and perpetually polite, surely knew it. Very neat, very elegant.

"I'll, er, have a word. He, speaks hastily at times."

"A forgivable trait, if not for the involvement of reporters."

"Er, yes." The Huffelpuff stared miserably at his supper and tried to work out if an undignified retreat would soothe the enraged Ravenclaw, and if Potter knew a way to poison food after it had been served. His chances did not seem good. "I think I'll do it now, actually."

"Thank you Mr Diggory."

"Think nothing of it Lord Potter."

It could have ended there, and Cedric would have sent a howler and Harry would have brewed extremely dangerous potions until he felt better and they would have been incredibly polite to each other until the tournament was over. That could, and would have happened were it not for the existence of one Zacharias Smith and his very un-Huffelpuff urge to douse flames in gasoline.

"I wouldn't call it slander." The words were perfectly pitched to carry and the hall went quiet as Harry went very, very still. "Really, with everything you've done over the years, well this calling you a, what was it, 'attention seeking egotist' seems all but reasonable."

Dumbledore looked all to interested in this turn of events, the water jugs were vibrating and the Huffelpuffs were discreetly making their escapes, for while they were in a number of important respects a very friendly mafia family they were also the house of sensible people –baring one or two terrible aberrations- and even the most forgiving and democratic mafia sometimes have to leave errant members to face their fates.

"That is an interesting perspective mister..?"

"Zacharias Smith, and it really isn't. Just look at the evidence and it becomes quite clear that you are either despite for attention or have a very, strange idea of what it takes to earn respect."

"Respect, hm? Yes that would be nice wouldn't it, respect is lovely." The water jugs stopped moving, and Harry turned to face his accuser and smiled brightly at the youth suspended from the ceiling, impossible loops of liquid around wrists and chest and face, blocking the mouth. "But is so hard to get and even more difficult to keep, and fear works, you see. So in the absence of respect, Mr Smith, I will settle for you unwavering terror."

"Mr Potter!"

Harry didn't so much as twitch, smiling slightly as he watched Smith's increasingly panicked struggles.

"Mr Potter I demand that you put him down immediately!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that Al. But hey, you're a big scary wizard, right? I'm sure you can get him down." He gave a bright, manic smile, snagged an apple and sauntered away. "Quickly now, he's having a little trouble breathing."

"Mr Potter you will-!"

The door slammed shut and Dumbledore fell to outraged splutters.

"It's always the quiet one's isn't it." mused Professor Vector, watching the gently swaying, wildly thrashing Smith, and smirked when Malificent and Moody broke into almost identical snickers. "Magic piñata's are so much better than muggel ones."

Xxxxxxxx

Indigo surfaced at lunchtime on Monday, or rather, he tumbled into the Great Hall clutching a 6 foot something wrapped in what had to be the most heavily be-spelled length of linen ever, smelling heavily of burnt sage and lily's, of coffee and marijuana, with deeply shaded bags under his eyes and something on his shirt that might have been blood, wine, ink or a potion but defiantly wasn't going to come out anytime soon.

This would have been rather alarming at any time, but between the tournament, Zacharias Smith's near death and the summoning of Harry's guardian, which had proved extremely unwise on Dumbledore's part though it also re-enforced that going to Azkaban was Not Good, no-one had noticed that he had been missing until he came back. Between his appearance, the probable weapon in his hand and the sudden, terrifying realization that they _didn't know _what he had been doing these last few days nine people shrieked, McGonagall stated swearing, the Huffelpuff 1st years were unceremoniously shoved under the table and the Ravenclaws, who were not all mad scientists but in a slightly different world would have been and recognized this trait in others, shoved their books into their bags in preparation to flee.

Dean's reaction involved far less fear and far more indignation.

"Where the hell did you get the drugs from?!"

"Hades." The word had a stoner slur, an over caffeinated speed and an absent tone that implied that the speaker wasn't thinking in sentences anymore

"Are you telling me you can mail order weed?"

Indigo gave the incredulous muggelborn a dazed blink and headed toward the Ravenclaw table with a drunken gait and a determined, if slightly confused, expression.

Harry rose to help, only to have the package thrown at him. The wrapping slipped in transit, and was then completely discarded as he realized what he was holding and adjusted his grip to snap out the three foot blade that folded neatly to the handle of his lovely new scythe.

Indigo gave an insane little gremlin giggle and didn't even protest when Julian hauled him into a seat and made him drink some water. It turned into a full blown cackle when Harry twirled his new weapon and every liquid in a 20 meter radius formed a whirlpool in response.

"That is not possible! His magic is fire based! He can't make water aliened enchantments it just isn't possible!" Professor Babbling sounded utterly appalled. "You can't do that it would-"

"Require the use of an artifact that causes serious burns around the forearms?" asked Hazel, inspecting the raw loops on the blonds wrists. "These need a healer."

"I'll do it." Harry rested the scythe over one shoulder and ran cool, chi bright hands over burnt skin "You are completely mad, you realize."

"Pft. Worked."

"That does not excuse everything, Indigo. And you're high as well, did you have Hades steal some poor stoners stash?"

"Mm. Yea."

"You have no manners what so ever. And you are going to be grounded for a very, very long time over this."

"Wi' mira."

"Yes I can see why that wouldn't work." Hands dimmed and left the now unmarked skin, wide green eyes met half glazed violet and Harry gently slid his fingers into blond hair, touched their foreheads together, sharing breath. "It is beautiful, and you may never, ever do such a thing again, you utter lunatic. And you are going to the Hospital Wing right now because it cannot possibly be healthy to mix that much caffeine with those drugs and I am not willing to risk you melting your brain."

"Yer wel'om."

"Shut up you arsehole. You stink, you know that?"

An absent hum, and Harry laughed, soft and strange, before pulling away.

"Come on you strange, silly thing. We'll let Pomfrey deal with you."

"'s 'k. Likes me. Kinna."

"That is probably going to change." said Hazel softly. "Can you walk?"

Indigo considered it, but Julian didn't wait for an answer, just lifted him bridal style and pretended not to notice the little hitch of pain, weight on hidden wounds no doubt. He was too light as well, nothing but bone and taunt mussel under the skin, probably hadn't eaten since they had seen him last. Or slept. Or done most of the things that normal people did as a simple matter of not dying.

Madame Promfrey would sort him out, and then Professor Snape would have his say, possibly aided by Miranda and Flare. They would watch him for signs of addiction, bully him to eat and limit his coffee intake for a while.

Something more significant would have to be done though. This behavior was extremely self-destructive, possibly a sign of an underlying problem, and amazing weaponry was nice and all but a fully functional Indigo was rather more important.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

They were brewing antidotes. There was probably something meaningful behind that, Snape reminding himself that he couldn't go around poisoning people, no matter that Indigo was still shaking in the hospital wing as Madame Pomfrey's magic cleared the toxins from his system, or that Professor Babbling was raging and demanding to know how, to see the scythe, to find the workshop, to compel answers. No matter that Harry had an exquisitely crafted weapon, shrunk by its own enchantments and strapped to his left wrist and Dumbledore was circling ever closer. They couldn't poison anyone and that was that.

Harry could probably stand to learn that lesson as well. Indigo really had put himself into this condition, but he knew enough of the blonds' mind to know that it was mostly due to fear. He would have made the scythe anyway, magical alignments be damned, but not in this way. This harsh method, fast and dirty and painful, that was the fault of this blasted tournament. And his place in it.

He couldn't poison the one responsible. He didn't know who it was.

A knock on the door and Colin poked his head in, checking for impending explosions before entering fully.

"What is it?"

"I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs, sir. Mr Bagman wants all of the champions. He said something about photographs…"

Colin shrank apologetically under Snape's glower, but bounced up again when he dismissed them with a waved hand. A token submission only, in respect for their professor's frustrations, and no actual fear in it.

"They want the photos for the Daily Prophet. I saw Skeeter, I think."

"From that article about our blowing up America?"

"That's the one, and there is no discreet way to murder her at the moment."

It was a strange, sad world where a thirteen year old felt the need to say that, and still worse that he was probably right to do so.

Colin nudged him into one of the smaller classrooms and left him to deal with the champions, Bagman, a magenta clad witch and a photographer who was eying Fleur in a slightly alarming manner. She seemed to have the matter well under control though, so he headed towards Krum's dark comer. Unfortunately Bagman spotted him before he could hide behind the other boy's fame.

"Ah, here he is, champion number four. In you come, Harry… Nothing to worry about, just the Wand Weighing ceremony, the judges will be here soon-"

"Wand weighing?"

"Just checking that your wands are fully functional, they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead after all." His smile shrunk slightly under Harry's cool stare, but he carried on regardless. "The expert is upstairs with Dumbledore now, and then there will be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter, she's doing a small piece on the tournament in the Daily Prophet."

She had too rigid curls and bejeweled glasses and two inch finger nails and a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

"Maybe not that small, Ludo. I wonder if I could have a word with Harry, before we start? The youngest champion, you know… to add a little color."

"No, Miss Skeeter, you may not. Excuse me."

"Oh, come now Harry, five min-" Her crimson clawed hand closed around his wrist, and Victor Krum's somewhat stronger and considerably more calloused hand settled on hers.

"Says no, means no. Enough."

"What- you can't just-"

"Thank you Mr Krum."

"Velcome. Come, ve hide behind pretty person, maybe they forget about us."

"Yes, people do tend to do that." He let Krum steer him to the corner, Fleur between them and the newspaper people, and spoke softly. "Will this actually work?"

"For now. Cannot always avoid the press though. Makes them rabid."

He spoke with a weary resignation, and picturing Rita Skeeter as a rabid dog came to easily for it to be humorous.

"I am mostly avoiding her. The last time she wrote anything on me I had to deal with a psychiatrist with false eyelashes. Which fell off."

"No good. Your guardian?"

"It was a slightly odd situation, at the time. My godfa-" their whispered conversation ended as Skeeter headed determinedly towards them, only for the assorted head teachers, Crouch and, more interestingly, Olivander to walk in. It stopped her though.

"Dumbledore! How are you? I hope you saw my piece over the summer on the International Confederation of Wizards Conference?"

"It was enchantingly nasty. I shall be delighted to hear the reasoning behind the rudeness later. But for now, the Weighing of the Wands." He smiled courteously at her and drew a chair for Madame Maxine in such a way that utterly dismissed the reporter with body language alone. Strange to find this point of agreement between them, but it seemed that Skeeter was offensive enough to bridge many chasms.

The Weighing of the Wands passed quickly, the photographs, didn't, and Cedric earned a pretty permanent place in Harry's good books by distracting Skeeter long enough for he and Victor to escape. Together, as it happened.

The older boy blushed under an inquiring eyebrow.

"You are being friend of Miss Granger, yes? We meet in library." His blush deepened. "She es very…"

"Yes, Hermione is lovely, and brilliant and normally I would commend your taste, but if she and Tracy aren't dating by the end of the year we are going to have to do something drastic. Preferably not to you."

Victor slumped and sighed something plaintive in Bulgarian, and Harry found himself taking pity.

"There there. I'll introduce you to Susan Bones. She isn't as nice as Hermione, but she should scare off most of the fangirls."

He brightened subtly, and they had surely seen stranger things than shy international Quidditch stars. Anyway, it was Susan's idea to protect the other champions, and he seemed a nice boy.

Xxxxxxxx

Rita Skeeter departed in high dudgeon, and promptly got writing. Who did Potter think he was, saying no to her! And Krum? Ha! She'd show them.

* * *

><p>Next time :Again With The Goddamn Dragons<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

Umei no Mai: She does, doesn't she?

JBBrown: I really like her, it shows doesn't it?

lordamnesia: Cedric is a Huffelpuff, he ain't daft.

Daughter of Jehova: He suffers from an over inflated sense of his own power, poor boy

Firehedgehog: Yup

Chaos Babe: All good teachers demonstrate my dear

Celesta SunStar: I'm succeeding then

unkNowncat: Skeeter is going to get it, and why say anything about a beetle? The aurors don't know, she'll just, vanish

Shadow Wolf 15846: Good.

At last, a chapter!

* * *

><p><span>Again With the Goddamn Dragons<span>

It was the habit of the inhabitants of Grimwald Place to rise early and start the morning with a pot of tea and a newspaper each. Sirius, by order of the mind healers, was not permitted to read the Daily Prophet before he'd had a dose of common sense and so was restricted to the Prophets more accurate, and therefore less popular, rival The Wizards Times, which had half as many descriptive verbs and a sense of deadpan rage. Because of this it was Remus who read Rita Skeeter's article, splashed across the front page as her work often was, and because he was Remus he made a mental list of everything he could prove was false, patted Sirius absently on the knee and went to summon the lawyers.

They were not happy about the early morning call, but they had learned that Mr Lupin was not to be trifled with so they arrived promptly, if mostly in there pyjamas, and were calmly informed that Skeeter had gone too far, the Prophet had printed it, and that if the newspaper was still in business by the time they ran out of lawsuits he would be extremely disappointed in all of them. A glint in his eye promised pain.

One of them snorted, and Sirius stormed in just in time to hear him mutter that a half blood werewolf could hardly do anything to them anyway. The man was promptly fired and hurled bodily though the floo, which had been instructed to send him 'somewhere horrible'. He turned up in Disney World, Florida, which probably wasn't what Sirius had had in mind but did prove sufficiently traumatic to the pureblood gentleman that he never used the floo system again.

"I'll kill them! Talk shit about my godson, I'll- I'll-"

"Sit down Sirius."

"Sit down?! I-" he turned, saw Remus's face and caught the clue bat. "You never got caught. You did more than any of us but you never got caught and they actually made you a prefect." Remus smiled, and Sirius sat down. "What are we going to do?"

"First we make a fuss, get Krum's agent involved and kick up dust until the editor hands us Skeeter's head on a plate in the hopes of shutting us up. Then we go legal, sue the Prophet, accuse the Ministry, string it all out in the courts and the other papers until no-one who works there will ever work again. Once that's done we bring it back to the Ministry, every law they never enforced, all the stories they paid to keep out of print. We'll see how many we can ruin and how low we can take them, and once that is done we'll sit back, take a good look at the situation and see if we want to do it all again. How does that sound to you?"

A few of the lawyers were drooling; at least one was trying to hide an erection and Sirius was smiling sweetly as he kissed Remus's hands.

"Mooney, you are a vicious, vindictive and terrifying man and I adore you utterly."

"I know and it makes me happy. Now go and put some clothes on, you're flashing your employees."

"Yes sir!" He saluted and was gone in a blur of pale and scared but increasingly muscular legs.

"Ma puppies you seen 'dis-" Arabella paused, half out of the fire place, paper still upraised in an aborted brandish and her scant nightgown rendered even more scant but the flames sneaking inside it. "'Ah 'ave missed 'de party."

"I am certain that Sirius will be happy to lend you the memories. We were about to start plotting the downfall of, well, lots of people. Would you care to join us?"

"O' course." She stalked over, dropping the paper in the flames and firmly moving Remus from his armchair to a sofa so she could drape herself over him. "You talk like an' overlor', ma 'husky. Ah' like." She cooed at the faint blush, and eyed a very embarrassed lawyer with distinct, but kindly, amusement. "Ba'hroom, secon' door on 'de left. Go." He turned scarlet and stuttered a denial, much to her confusion. "No, no! Don' be embarrasse', 'es natural. Scary an' sexy 'es still sexy. 's okay, jus' no' right now, hum? Go on."

"Yes ma'am."

There was a long silence as the remaining lawyers tried to reconstruct their worldviews to accept the events of the last few minutes as something that could and had happened, and Remus tried to work out if getting Arabella into something a little less revealing would actually help at this point.

"Shall we begin ladies, gentlemen?"

Xxxxxxxxxx

_He'd flown with the wildfire, rode the heat born winds until it burnt out and Tarni didn't like how he laughed crumpled on the burnt earth and he'd tried to explain to Shar brotherfriendself but he didn'couldn't understand and he had never felt alone before-_

_The bear and the storm, always the storm and it was wild wise and knew the lightning under his skin better than he did-_

_Haze not thick enough and the fire had to go somewhere and his power trapped against skin and he burned-_

_Three in one, three as one and they were beautiful and deadly and he haddidshould have that but it was broken and there was no-one to blame but himself-_

_Children got bored at adults parties, even god-children, and they'd said 'entertain yourself' but he'd been slapped panic hard as he watched the falling blossom flare fire bright and there was gold around his arms that he couldn't remove and everything was fading to grey-_

_A body to cold and thoughtwishdream whispered though the arm around his waist and the chest flush against his back and it was cravewantlove and loveandfearand obey and I'lllaythisworldatyourfeet-_

_Burning and burning and how had he not known this before-_

_They were all going to die and it was __**easy**__-_

He twisted against the dreams, gasped water and hacked himself awake and breathing again as the water started to drain properly and take the fine grit away. He had shifted in his sleep, blocked the plughole and almost drowned as the shower poured on, quite heedless of the rising water level.

It was even still hot. Wasn't magic grand at enabling stupidity?

He needed a drink and a snack and something to hit. So what he really needed was to dry off, find some clothes and let Pomfrey yell at him until she was willing to provide them or release him. Fine. There were towels and a bathrobe. They would do nicely.

Pomfery was waiting for him in her office. She had been though his pockets.

"Do you realise just how many toxins were in your system?" she was looking at the trinket, and clearly did not want an answer. "Skrewt venom and mandrake root, the Draft of Living Death and Pepper Up Potion. You used marijuana and cocaine and topped this lethal cocktail of with a dose of vicodin. Why?"

"It takes the edge off man." Oh, he shouldn't have said that, it was a terrible thing to say. Funny, but terrible.

"I can have you committed based on your blood tests alone."

"I know and it makes me happy." It did, oddly enough. Madame Pomfrey was one of his favourite adults and standing here, watching her watch her hand, he was hardly going to feel threatened. "It's for you, by the way."

Her fingers curled around it, the possession made clear, and no blood spilled as the skin stretched taunt and pulled the wound wider. A small cut, made by a woman how knew what she was doing but it could be scaled up. Here's to not bleeding to death and the many healer and law enforcers and dullest who would pay though the nose to know how.

"Did you make it just for this?"

"Mostly to prove that I'm clever, but I thought of it just for this. Do you feel important?"

"Must you be so bloody flippant?"

"No, but the alternative is angry, creepy and quite probably unhinged, and I liked you so let's not." Watching her watching her hand, knowing that she knew that he knew what she was thinking and that that, if nothing else, was okay. Pomfrey had excepted his empath status with an ease only Mirada, Luna and Neville could match. "I can make you more. I can tell you how that one works, and since it's all guesses work and chemistry text books at the moment it can obviously be improved by the input of a skilled healer such as yourself."

"You are a manipulative little shit and I hate you."

It is not my fault that bribery works. It is a efficient if inglorious tradition."

"One that you are alarmingly good at. I have to tell Severus something you know."

"He already knows everything that can be worked out and it is not beyond belief that I have been here, however long I've been here, simply because you have been using very thorough and unpleasant spells to clear out everything and convince me not to do it again. Which I am going to do, though not to this extent." Neville was almost as opposed but he was Neville. The twin bond may have mutated past recognition but it was still there. "Marijuana should do it."

"You are so intent on arming them."

"Protecting people doesn't work, it just makes them dependent. Get them to protect themselves."

Xxxxxxxx

Catherine was not bored anymore. In fact, she was less bored than she had been in centuries, since the Boleyn girl and her daughter had tilted England on its axis. The scope was so much smaller this time, but that only meant that the effects were concentrated. Such little things to stir such sweet madness, darling little lunatics.

This time it began with the howler Potter had received, an early post owl dropping the letter that demanded that he Do Nothing, the man's voice swearing that it would be dealt with, they would nail her, by Harry must do nothing. Then the papers arrived and the reasons became clear, and Harry did nothing. He obeyed, went about his day as if Rita Skeeter didn't even exist, and Malfoy drifted back into lessons after lunch and went coldly quiet as he drifted towards Susan Bones until Zabini touched his wrist with murmured of 'Ma-ji' and 'Remus' and 'they'll enjoy it' until the blond softened and let himself be yelled at again.

They did nothing and the masses moved quickly away and she loved it. She didn't know why they were so feared, Potter had shown himself to be dangerous and the talk of last year's Death Eater incursion was utterly fascinating, but insufficient to draw such a response. No, this drew from a softer menace, Yuki's cold smile or Julian's blank stare or Susan's silent assessment. Not individually that alarming, but placed beside Miranda Prince's throwing knives, the razor light attention of the Weasley Twins and their lover or Hermione Grangers so sharp mind and the whole thing struck off that primal place in the mind that warned of predators abound and said that you were hunted.

She had not seen so many so afraid since Elizabeth walked the court of her dying sister. Her sire would have loathed them all.

"Come in, Mr Moon."

He did not hesitate outside her office door. She could hear his heart beating and it did not trouble him in the slightest.

"Good evening professor." He closed the door gently and smiled with welcome, if not genuine affection. "You seem cheerful this evening."

"As do you. Do we perhaps share a cause?"

"I doubt it sir." A faint blush, he thought of Julian no doubt, the one who was not yet his lover. "You have an air of impending cackle, if you don't mind my saying so. I think I may have missed the joke."

"A pity." She would give them reason to favour her, they would keep entertaining her regardless but it couldn't hurt. "There were dragons involved and everything is hilarious."

"That sounds just fascinating." He unbuttoned a cuff, offered the wrist. "Hagrid will be delighted, he adores dragons you know."

"I am so glad." His pulse was steady and strong, and she hadn't been so well feed in decades and she wondered if they knew that. "It is rare, for a vampire to feed straight from the vein. Most donors fear that we would kill them, accidentally or on purpose. Does the idea never alarm you?"

"Oh no professor, you are much to sensible to do that."

His clear blue eyes were wide, seemingly guileless but that must surely be a mask. He knew that any death at her hands would draw swift and fatal vengeance, the Hit Squad would not forgive the loss of one of their own, and Dumbledore simply would not forgive.

His blood was human tart and magic spiced and he might seem the softest of her donors but that could not be the case, for nothing in sent or taste or heart beat betrayed his subtle mockery. But he could not be ignorant of his position, the strength at his back, it was simply not possible.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Hello Charlie it's just-"

"-lovely to see you. We had-"

"-no idea you were coming. You should-"

"-tell us why you're here Charlie, you-"

"-should tell us right now and share the-"

"-plans for those dragons while you're at it."

Charlie Weasley stared at his brother, absently testing the ropes that kept him hugging the tree as he pondered this latest development. The Twins had not, to his knowledge, done anything like this before, but none of their friends had been forced into a potentially lethal tournament before, it might be the natural progression of the Twins being the Twins. But the black haired person with the mismatched eye was watching them, now male despite having been female at the World Cup which would have been more alarming if he/she wasn't dating the Twins and Charlie eyed him/her with a certain suspicion that he/she might be accountable. He didn't actually care, Jackie wasn't it the name didn't indicate a gender preference, was male, female or both, but he did mind being tied to a tree. Rather a lot.

"Don't look at me, I thought we should just seek in. This was Fred's idea."

Well damn. What was he going to tell Mum?

"I'm not allowed to tell you about that."

"You are tied to a tree in-"

"-the Forbidden Forest and-"

"-I've got your wand."

That, was a very convincing argument.

Xxxxxxx

"So I have to get past a mother dragons and steal what she believes to be one of her eggs." Harry sighed, genially disappointed. "Bagman had something to do with this; it has his love of drama all over it."

Fleur mutter something rude in French and delicately sipped her tea.

"Probably." Just who Yuki was responding to was anyone's guess. "I believe distractions may be in order. I suppose summoning charms won't work."

A silence settled and drew out as everyone considered what they knew of their teachers and the Ministry.

"Your Flitvick vould notice."

"Yes, but Professor Flitwick likes teaching and wants all of his students to live." Tracy blinked slowly at space. "He's a little odd in that respect."

"It would be foolhardy not to have a backup plan." rumbled Julian. "But this does seem, worth trying. Shall we inform Diggory?"

"Yes, his father has been behaving and we must reward good behaviour."

"Amos Diggory isn't actually a dog Harry."

"I am aware of that Hermione, but I am told that the technique also works on small children."

Xxxxxxxxx

The golden eggs were not immune to summoning charms, and Bagman was reduced to commenting on the quality of the distractions until Victor's illusionary pterodactyl (his mother was muggel born and her son was going to learn natural history or else) swopped down on him and, with a little help from Snape and Maleficent, refused to be dispelled.

It was hard to tell just who was most embarrassed by this, but any consideration was put firmly on hold when the fire damage that Fleur had caused in the name of distraction caused the judges podium to collapse. This caused some screaming and shouting, which covered Harry, who found that his saboteur had thought things though better than the entire planning committee, while he politely explained the situation to a rather annoyed Hungarian Horntail who spoke clear, if archaic Parseltongue.

The Nutters found it all utterly hilarious, and a certain 2nd year was a little disappointed to discover that, no matter how many tickling charms you hit them with, people always passed out before a laughter induced lack of oxygen could kill them.

* * *

><p>Next time:<span> The Quiet Ones Hunt You Down<br>


	12. Chapter 12

lordamnesia: There were dinosaurs with feathers, anything is possible. I though Remus was a rather underused character in the books, sure he's a werewolf and gets nuts on the full moon, but what does wolfy-ness do the rest of the time? Wolf packs are very loyal and it seemed weird for him to abandon Sirius and Harry so easily.

Genjo Mousie: Yessir!

unkNOWcat: *flutters eyelashes in your direction* You say the sweetest things! I could do with some payers to the plot bunny gods, I keep getting mauled by Supernatural/Teen Wolf ones. Dean Winchester gives me feels. Dean Winchester, Peter Hale and Stiles Stilinski stuck in a room together is to much awesome for me to write properly.

akitty: Thanks, all the writing does seem to be helping. Though if the spell checker ever stops working I'm doomed.

Kuroi In a Black Hole: Oh sweet bunny Jesus please! PM me an e-mail address and I'll send you the lot. Me and spelling aren't on speaking terms at the best of times and the English spell check on my computer hates the American spell check on the site hate each other like whoa. I can't even hate on it, the weird of apoligise with a z does not equal the sensible of ditching the silent u's.

_So to ye all: _And low it comes at last. 3 and a bit months is pretty damn bad its true. If I could but say it won't happen again. On a lighter note, anyone who can work out why the slander-fines law is called Loki's Truths wins at Vikings.

* * *

><p><span>Remus Lupin Is More Dangerous Than You Think He Is<span>

Fluer opened her copy of the International Mage, read the first few pages, and then choked on her croissant as she found an image of Lord Sirius Black and consort, standing with Coach Romonov of the Bulgarian Quidditch team outside the headquarters of the Daily Prophet, all looking quietly but distinctly livid.

She ignored the headline on the grounds that they were inevitably utter bullshit and focused on the article, her breakfast forgotten.

'_Unprecedented scenes in England today of the Daily Prophet, Britain's primary newspaper, faces legal action over an article by Rita Skeeter (37) published yesterday, which made numerous uncomplimentary references to Victor Krum (18) noted for his sterling performance at the Quidditch World Cup this summer as well as his current participation in the Triwizzard Tournament, and Harry Potter (14) widely known as the Boy-Who-Lived and an unexpected, and according to sources within Hogwarts unwilling forth champion in the Tournament. _

_Miss Skeeters tendency to push the article may have landed her in hot water this time as Mrs Anyanka Krum (44) and Coach Katrina Romonov (51) join forces with Lord Sirius Black (38) and his Consort Remus Lupin (38) to protest the allegations Miss Skeeter has leveled at their charges. _

She didn't bother to read the rest, just tucked the paper under her arm, waved off the concerns of her schoolmates and went to find her cousin, pastries and a mug of chocolate in hand. Miranda, Indigo and Luna probably weren't directly involved in this, there was nowhere near enough confusion or screaming for that, but they would no doubt have an excellent view of the proceedings since it involved Harry.

Such a nice boy, if occasionally a little blatant about his murderous inclinations. If only he and Indigo would do something about their rather obviously mutual affections. Well, Harry seemed quite willing to move things on in that regard, but Indigo… No-one could call him retiring in, it seemed, all circumstances save these. There were exceptions to every rule, but she still found it a little odd.

She located Indigo, handed him an almond croissant and the newspaper, and waited. He found the page instantly, and smiled.

"I like Remus, you know. He works so hard to pretend he can't rip throats out when all he really wants to do is pick certain peoples vocal cords out of his teeth." He returned the paper, and offered her a copy of the Prophet. "I expect Skeeter will survive him, not Ma-ji but Remus won't kill her because it would prove racists right. She'll wish otherwise though."

"You mean to tell me you will not involve yourself?"

"I'm busy. Besides, they'll have a lovely time. It will do Sirius a world of good."

Fluer had come seeking entertainment, but she left worried.

Xxxxxxxx

The egg was, irritating, very irritating. When opened it shrieked, and when closed it sort of leered at you knowingly and Harry found he had very little tolerance for that at the moment. There were quite enough people leering at him, since Remus was still making inroads on his quest for bloody vengeance, and he really objected to getting it from inanimate objects as well.

There was a very, very short list of people who were allowed to leer, or smirk, knowingly at him and now half the bloody castle were doing one or the other. Because clearly that mess with Smith had meant absolutely nothing and it wasn't like he had, you know, a magic scythe or anything.

A 6th year tittered at him, and he was pretty sure he could get the boys' blood to splatter all the way to the ceiling if he got the angle right. It would be Darwinism. Practically a public service.

"I am not breaking you out of Azkaban."

The 6th year heard the words and blanched before he hurried away. That at least was gratifying, though Harry very much doubted that the youth understood just how timely Ron's intervention had been or how much he now owed to the redhead. No-one ever seemed to understand that when he was involved, and not for the first time Harry wished he could pull off Millicent's air of impending violence or Jackie's silent suggestion of working out where to hide the bodies. Harry had never been good at implying doom until he was actually meting it out, and in times such as these he felt the lack.

"I have absolutely no intention of going there Ron. I have potions homework and will not be going anywhere at all until the essays are complete. That said; if people do not stop smirking at me there may be unpleasantness."

"Essays." Ron's tone was carefully neutral but his expression was slightly alarmed as he viewed the spread of note covered parchment and the golden egg propped against a stack of books. "I heard that right, didn't I? Essays. As in plural. As in more than one."

"Yes."

"You don't have to do your potions NEWT this year you know. No-one could expect you to, not with the tournament. Mitigating factors or something."

"No-one who got an Outstanding in their subjects NEWT before the age of 16 has been ever refused an apprenticeship. Not once."

Ron looked even more alarmed than he had before.

"O-kay. You don't normally do this, I think. Never actually seen you working for exams before but this seems pretty damn unlike you. So are you doing this, stuff, to forget about that," he gestured to a smirker, "bullshit?"

"Do you mean displacement activity?"

"You ask me like I know. Answer the question."

"They are extremely irritating, but Remus has asked that I be patient."

"It doesn't have to be you, or even the Hit Squad. We could ask the Munchkin Army, it's been a while since they pulled anything. They're probably bored."

"Until we know the extent of Remus's plans it is best not to act."

"Yeah but- Oh. Right, yeah. Whatever you say boss."

Harry eyed his friend and recognised his trying-not-to-acknowledge-that-I've-worked-out-som ething-you're-embaressed-by expression, and yes it was used enough that he recognised it at a glance. Ron was rather more perceptive than he pretended to be, and had realised that it had been a long time since Harry had any parental figures at all, and he had never had one willing to eviscerate people on his behalf. Now he had two of them. It was a nice feeling and doing something to shut everyone up would ruin it. Ron had worked all of this out and was trying not to show it because he was, at heart, a genuinely nice person.

He was clearly struggling though. It seemed best to just change the subject entirely.

"Tracy thinks the eggs screaming might be a language. Apparently there is a sort of structure or rhythm that suggests words."

Harry listened to Ron's quips about scream language –he really could make an innuendo out of anything- and pretended not to know that Ron knew. They were teenage boys after all; talking about it could only be awkward.

Xxxxxx

Conner Draven had been editor-in-chief of the Daily prophet for almost half a century and he was willing to deploy any tactic, no matter how vicious, backhanded or distasteful to ensure that he maintained that position. He was In Charge and he was damn well going to stay that way.

This meeting, inconvenient as it was, shouldn't be too tricky. He'd already sent out the order to hint at Consort Lupin as a possible werewolf, who cared if it was truth the man's gold eyes would maintain the suspicion, and the writers were working on stories about gagging orders and 'a free fair press' at this very moment. He did hate to steal ideas from the muggels but their newspapers had disrupting lawsuits down to an art.

The lawyers, a Mr Frockmorton and Miss Fitzhenry from Blacks quarter and a Miss Chilikov from the Bulgarians filed in and claimed the seats without so much as a glance at him, the rude little things. Lord Black perched on the window seat, Coach Romonov hopped onto the sideboard and Lupin settled into a corner in a manner eerily reminiscent Master Snape's behaviour when he and Lady Black-Snape had visited about that article Skeeter had written about their eldest.

Draven repressed a shudder at the memory and aimed one of his less used smiles at the group. They couldn't be half as tricky as Malfoys guardians, who he was not scared of. He was not.

"Good morning gentlemen, ladies. I understand that you have some, complaints."

"Well, that is one way of putting it I suppose." Miss Fitzhenry opened her briefcase with a surprisingly menacing click, and drew out a sheaf of papers. "Mr Draven, this is a notification of the lawsuit brought against the Daily Prophet by the Ancient and Noble House of Black and the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. We are suing for slander, liable and flagrant violation of the rights to privacy of Harry James Potter, Lord of the House of Potter and Heir to the House of Black. Do require any further clarification on any point?"

"There are no slander laws in Wizarding Britain."

"There are, actually. I have included a copy of those pertaining to the general populace and the additional protections granted to members of the Wizengomot." She spoke with blithe unconcern and nudged the papers towards him pointedly. "Anything else? I have a list of potential dates for the initial hearing. Please recall that, under the Loki's Truths Act of 1181 if the initial date is more than one month after the case is brought forward the defendant becomes obliged to pay rumination for the financial distress caused by attacks upon the reputation of the accuser. In the case of Lord Potter that would amount to 9000 galleons per month."

"Miss Fitzhenry I advise you to reconsider. The right of free speech was laid down during the reign of Mary Tudor. The Ministry has no power over the newspapers."

"You are misinformed Mr Draven, that law was repelled during the rise of the Dark Lord Grindelwald in order to prevent the fear-mongering that was developing in the press, and the Tudor act only applied to interference from the monarchy. Our elected leaders have not only the right, but the responsibility to monitor the press laid down in the First Charter of State section , the Accuracy of Information Act. I've included a copy."

Draven couldn't not glance to Black and see his smirk, couldn't not see the predatory malice in Lupin's gaze, but he couldn't look at Romonov at all because no-one had even mentioned Krum yet.

"Then I suppose we had best arrange a court date. Will that be all?"

"Of course not." It was Miss Chilikov who spoke, drawing a new set of papers and placing them beside Fitzhenrys set. "You are being sued for the slander of Victor Krum, as well as invasion of his privacy and attacks upon his associates. Hearing in England this month or 1000 galleon fine for the reasons my esteemed colleague Madame Fitzhenry has already explained, and a hearing in Bulgaria required by the 1945 Accord of Nations or penalty of 500 galleons. Clear?"

He took the list and agreed the court dates. Lawyers. He had them, the Prophet had them, and he was going to hang the bloody lot of them for not warning him of all this. After Skeeter.

"Well, this is just-"

"Ahem." Frockmorton smiled, dropped a small box on the desk and tapped it with his wand. It turned to a large, slightly straining file box, and then he repeated the process another four times. "Lawsuits for slander from, well, lots of people. My firm, Tariff and Lye, will be handling the cases. They are arranged by date, oldest in this box." He gave Draven the bright, sunny smile of someone who has just been handed something they've always wanted. "There are about 500 of them, here's a list. Hearings to be arranged by post, my card."

Draven took it automatically, gazing at the boxes in horror.

Remus peeled himself gracefully off the wall and smiled pleasantly at everyone.

"That is everything, I think. We'll show ourselves out shall we?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

No-one even tried for a quote as they left. Sirius was singing 'I feel pretty' softly to himself and there are some things even reporters won't willingly touch.

"This is epic, we must do this again."

Frockmorton received some vaguely amused looks from his fellow lawyers.

"Ve vill." stated Chilikov. "Many times over the next six months. At minimum."

"Probably closer to 20 years in your case." mused Fitzhenry. "500 lawsuits? Really?"

"It will be worth it. The Prophet is made of shit and must burn." The three women and one werewolf wrinkled their noses in unison, but Frockmorton was all but unabashed. "It will be a just if stinky flame."

"That I must grant you. I am worried about Skeeter though." Fitzhenry's lip curled, seemingly an involuntary reaction. "She is a vicious little bullshiter and she'll spin anything we do."

"Oh, don't worry about her." Remus smiled with the murder-happy air of a recently fed shark. "We were going to tie her up in legal unpleasantness but then…"

"She's so clever but so, so stupid."

"I do not think we should hear dis." muttered Romonov, who knew trouble when it smiled at her.

"We haven't done anything illegal." insisted Remus, in perfect honesty as it happened.

"Und now I know ve should not hear dis."

The two Marauders tried to look innocent, but their faces hadn't been made for it. Commentary on this was forestalled by the arrival of one Lady Zabini who charged over to her puppies with her normal enthusiasm and disregard for bystanders. The jar tied to her wrist, which seemed to have a live beetle in it, just made the scene slightly more surreal.

Xxxxxxx

Malificent had become a little disappointed at Potters reaction to Skeeters article, or rather his reaction to everyone else's reaction. Much of the school had, after the initial panic had faded, responded with the mindless distain so artfully invoked by Skeeters clever quill, and she had expected something in the way of bloody vengeance. But Potter have received that howler and inexplicably obeyed the request made of him, and kept obeying it. It seemed bizarre, and the Hit Squads irked tolerance of their leaders treatment had been rather a blow to her respect for them.

But then came this morning's newspapers, and didn't she feel silly now? Of course anyone capable of commanding the heirs of chaos and casual violence would have to be every bit as much a purveyor of pain and humiliation as they, and it was only natural to refrain from cracking skulls in order to dispense a more lasting retribution on more deserving subjects. She would never have expected lawsuits to be the weapon of choice, but the Prophets clumsy redactions and denials and sacking Skeeter on the front page because they couldn't find her to do it in person proved their effectiveness.

Fortunately she knew just the way to apologise for her error, and see had the 4th year Ravenclaws just before lunch.

"Now I expect your Head of House will have already told you this but the Yule Ball will be held over the Winter Solstice, 4th years and above are expected to attend. I will be holding dance lessons in the study hall opposite the library at 6 o'clock every Wednesday." The bell rang and her slightly shocked looking students packed their things away in near silence. "Stay a moment Mr Potter, I would like a word."

Davis and Moon left obediently, but she could hear them lingering in the hallway, such loyal young wolves. It took a moment for her spell to settle, but and listening magic would hear a conversation about Potters last essay. Being unremarkable was almost better than being unobserved.

"The champions are required to open the ball with a dance. You will obviously require a partner. I would suggest Luna Lovegood or Yuki Greengrass, the pre-existing connection should keep the gossip to a minimum and they have complimentary hair and skin tones to your own. Or Malfoy of course."

"I see. Thank you for informing me." His expression was faintly quizzical, aware that she could easily have mentioned this to any member of the Hit Squad rather than tell him directly. Malificent and her donors were careful not to highlight their association, and Potter in particular had to work to avoid commentary.

"The way your egg screams, are you aware that it is a language?"

"Tracy had detected sentence structure."

"It is mermish, listen to it underwater and it will become comprehensible." She turned away, eyed the stack of papers on her desk and resented once more the existence of homework. "That will be all Mr Potter."

"…Yes professor."

He left wondering at her, but let him wonder. She did not owe _this_ boy anything, hadn't even fed on him since his selection by the Goblet, and that was almost a shame for she had the impression that Mr Potter was a little bit vampire.

It was rare for her kind to breed, and rarer still for the children to express the traits of their fanged forebears, but blood and strong magic worked strangely and it seemed the Boy-Who-Lived would burst into full dhampyric glory in a few years. A shame she could no longer discreetly monitor the changes in his blood.

Regardless, it was going to drive Dumbledore absolutely mad.

* * *

><p>Next (I think): <span>No-one (Sensible) Puts Veela in the Water<span>


	13. Chapter 13

Firehedgehog: Cheers

lordamnesia: Fleur can do her own rampaging, and Harry isn't a dhamphire just yet. Maybe later

Kuroi In a Black Hole: Thanks deary

akitty: Alas, Harry is not taking Indigo, I couldn't get it to work. I started sans better, acquired one recently and then she moved to japan and got busy. Such is life.

Kayla 44: Thank you

Umei no Mai: I like Remus, it shows doesn't it?

kurofai-fan1: I like being scary, people edge away nervously so I get though ques quickly!

unkNOWncat: Well it would have been, but then I realized I'd forgotten about the Yule Ball, which was awkward...

_Ah hell: _That terrible moment when you realize you've been spelling a characters name wrong the entire time...

* * *

><p><span>No-one (Sensible) Puts Veela in the Water<span>

"The second task involves retrieving something from the lake within a time limit." Harry dropped his bag on the table and accepted the cup of tea Yuki handed him with murmured thanks. "So I suggest we all stop thinking about that for a while."

"Does this mean we can kill the egg?" asked Tracy, who had ended up in charge of the translation effort and had rather a lot of righteous anger to work though.

"It is still not alive." Susan frowned at her history homework. "You could probably break it, but the Ministry may want them back."

Tracy's expression said, quite clearly, that the Ministry could go snuggle a rabid honey badger, but Yuki pushed her towards Hermione before the hexes could start.

"Research it first. What if you break it and all the pieces start screaming and you can't close it anymore and it will never, ever stop." Yuki raised her eyebrows as Tracy whimpered and Hermione wrapped the grey eyed girl in a hug and made comforting noises at her. "Yeah, you're welcome."

She really did have the oddest way of doing people favours. It couldn't be a Slytherin thing though; Millicent, Flare and Miranda were all perfectly capable of doing nice things without being mean about it. Indigo wasn't, but then he had trouble suspending his sarcasm.

Where was the blond anyway? He'd hardly seen him since the scythe was handed over. His devoted avoidance of Babbling was understandable but he had no reason to dodge the Hit Squad, and HQ should have been an easy refuge.

"On a less cheerful note, the champions have to open the Yule Ball so someone is going to have to come and suffer with me." Harry eyed his suddenly sheepish looking friends, noting Indigo's absence once again. What was their cross-grained captain up to now? "Don't tell me you all have dates already."

"Victor needed a defender and Dean asked Hannah." Susan shrugged. "Even Neville and Luna are arranged, which I did not see coming but it seems to suit them."

"She saw it though." Jackie seemed inexplicably gleeful. "Julian?"

"Is leaning pinely in Hazels direction."

"That sounds both hilarious and dangerous. What about Ron?"

"Millicent is taking him, you know how he's been flirting since the Death Eater nonsense." Yuki nodded as general noises of approval, and the twins cheers momentarily filled the room. "I think I'm escorting Eric, the Munchkins seem thoroughly offended by the entire thing."

"On that we are in agreement. Does Indigo have a partner?"

"Yes." snapped the blond, stalking in with a thunderous expression on his face and a pair of rather nice slippers on his feet. "I don't know who but I'm sure they will work it out eventually. Did I leave a book in here?"

"Probably. Who are 'they' and why are you wearing slippers?"

"They're shoes."

"No they really aren't." Harry really was getting worried now.

"Well they used to be." Indigo settled beside Tracy and gave his feet a bemused look. "It might be some kind of threat but there actually very nice slippers. They are Alysandra and Miranda and possibly Colin as well since Flare has come over all heteronormative on us." Susan made a confused noise and Indigo offered an equally confused shrug in reply. "Precisely. He could be sulking, but he sounded heteronormative and I don't know why he'd be sulking."

"Dean asked Hannah to the Yule Ball."

Indigo blinked a few times at this bland declaration.

"Yes. That would do it." He glanced at Yuki. "Dean and Hannah?"

"And Flare."

"Really?"

"I hope so. It's moping or threesomes, so clearly we need more threesomes."

"The moping seems more likely. The heteronormative bullshit, you know."

"Awkward, yes, but what else are we going to do with Dean?"

"I think Eric has a bit of a crush on him."

"Really? I though he and Alysandra had something."

"Only a mutual appreciation for fiendish plots, she's a little taken with Susan." The girl in question squawked and was waved at dismissively. "Hush. She's seen you pwan people with magic, it was bound to happen."

"That is hot." agreed Yuki, nodding wisely and ignoring the assorted persons staring at her blankly. "We cannot fault her taste. Colin?"

"You, dear. Think about, yeah? He's shaping up to be an excellent blackmailer."

"Well yes, but I would have to fight Miranda for him."

"She's currently molding his younger brother to her will, or threesomes. We need more threesomes."

"I think that would be spiritually incestuous."

"We already have twincest in the area. Does anyone actually care anymore? Or ever?"

Everyone paused to look thoughtfully at the Nutters, and the twins obligingly snogged for affect while Jackie looked benevolently and lustfully on.

"I have no idea how we got onto this topic." stated Tracy, watching blankly as Susan doused the trinity of mayhem with a jug of water and kicked them out with firm instructions to go and find a bloody bed. "What were we talking about again?"

"The entire Hit Squad have, or will have dates so I am going to have to embarrass myself in the name of tradition."

"What are we, chopped liver?"

"You, my dearest Hermione, are going with Tracy because if we have to put up with anymore of this mutually unrequited bullshit I am going to dose the two of you with every aphrodisiac known to magic and trap you in a small room together in the hopes that orgasms will somehow turn into love confessions." Harry took their shocked stares with the level gaze of a man who has already worked out where to hide the hostages. "I will do it. You know I will."

"That is a ridiculous cliché from an erotic novel." protested Tracy weakly.

"Speaking as a ridiculous cliché from a fantasy novel, shut up and deal." Hermione bit her lip, and shyly touched Tracy's wrist. The girls were silent for a moment, watching each other.

"We should, talk. Somewhere far away from them."

Tracy's nodded, and let Hermione lead her out with an expression of mingled terror and bliss.

The rooms remaining occupants watched them go with a sort of amused, proprietary benevolence that would have had Hannibal Lector fleeing in terror.

"While this is all perplexing, funny and ultimately satisfying, is has not addressed the matter at hand. Harry, pick a Munchkin. You probably won't look fabulous but we're out of blonds."

It was at this point that Fleur, with her normal impeccable timing, stormed into the room.

"Indigo, ah require a dance partner who will not talk to my bosom. You are it."

"I'm sort of spoken for, but Harry isn't."

"I promise not the stare at your bosom, and Narcissa says my dancing is acceptable."

Fleur eyed Harry for a moment, and then hauled him off to compare dress robes.

"Why didn't she get electrocuted?"

"That is a very good question. No idea."

xxxxxxxx

Susan hadn't expected to like Victor Krum. She'd agreed to look after him because it needed to be done and protecting the other champions had been her idea in the first place and hypocrisy was a vile thing that she would have no part of. She had not thought she would like the Quidditch star. Harry might call him a nice boy, but frankly he was not a sound judge of niceness.

Indigo was a bitch, after all, and Ron was, Ron. She wasn't sure how to describe Ron.

But Victor was a nice boy and she was, much to her surprise, enjoying the evening. It had started will with the shock and horror caused by Fleur and Harry arriving together, and continued with pleasant conversation and an attentive companion and the general satisfaction of knowing that she was pissing of people who deserved to be pissed off. The fanghouls had been glaring a hole in her neck all evening.

Victor dipped her carefully and offered an inquiring look.

"I am normally very bad at formal occasions, but I'm enjoying myself. You make excellent company Victor."

"I am pleased to hear dis." The music stopped. "Your 'Arry is over there."

"I'm pretty sure Harry is communal property, but I could do with a little break. Fleur has abandoned him?"

"She 'old court over 'zere. There. Pardon."

"We really don't mind your accent you know. Lady Zabini's is far stranger. Harry you look slightly thunderous, have you argued with Indigo?"

"If we had argued I would know what was going on. No, he and Aly split up and I haven't seen him since. Enjoying yourself Victor?"

"I am in good company. I vill bring drinks."

He kissed Susan hand and slid away into the crowd.

"You know I didn't believe you when you said he was nice, but he does tact and everything." She eyed him, seeing to too stiff fingers and worried by them. "I don't think it's your fault, but you understand how he thinks better than any of us. Which is probably why he's avoiding you."

"Yes." He sighed, rubbed his face. "I thought it was about the Death Eaters, he broods terribly and the World Cup business would hardly help matters. It would explain the weaponry."

"Hannah is rather pleased with her new quarter staff, and I don't know where he got the basilisk skin but with all the magic on it I think Julian would survive a boulder landing on him wearing that."

There was an odd resettling of Harry's face, a thought firmly repressed.

"I gave him a section of the basilisk from second year. And he presented Millicent with a battle axe at lunch today and then wandered off saying he was behind schedule."

"Neville made him eat. You think that there is something else then?"

"There must be. Severus knows, and Yuki. Millicent has probably guessed, I can't tell with Flare and Miranda."

"Something to do with the family then."

"I believe so."

She nodded, all too aware of Indigo's more, difficult relations, and couldn't quite smile properly when Victor returned.

"Bad news?"

"Just, something to consider. Thank you." The butter beer was sweet and perfectly chilled. "Tell me more about your home town?"

"At this time of year there will be an ice palace in the park. It is lovely 'vile it lasts, und in summer there are many flowers, und that too is lovely. Per'aps you vould visit to see it? I think you vould get on very vell with my mother."

Susan froze for a moment, because surely the suggestion meant something different in Bulgaria, but the Great Hall filled with odd orange gas before she could ask, and the odd sensation of acquiring new genitalia that her under things had not been designed for rather distracted her from asking.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Yuki gazed pensively at the stars, re-enforcing the silencing and stay away spells with random twitches of her wand. She hadn't meant to witness this, meant it when she called him her brother, but having stumbled upon the scene… well.

The young man, one of the Beauxbatons delegation by the look of him, wandered past and froze when he saw her. Yuki raised an eyebrow at him and made a dismissive gesture.

"Shoo. You are of no interest to what so ever."

He did as he was told, and after waiting a few minutes for safety, went to investigate.

"Voyeurism, sweet sister?"

"Exhibitionism, dear brother?"

"Touché." Indigo was, thankfully, dressed again and only mussed hair and kiss swollen lips showed what had happened. "There were spells up."

"Red rag to a bull." She settled on a stone bench, which had not been any part of the tryst, considered the twitch in Indigo's fingers and found the message in them rather unexpected. "300 years old and you've never experimented with men before. I never thought to ask this Indigo, but did you used to be ugly?"

"I looked much as I do now. " The tone was distant but the twitching ceased, as though her mockery settled him. "I was a priest, and before that I was a prince."

So none of the men who would dare approach him with sex in mind were the sort of men one would actually sleep with, and were probably morally questionable at best. Indigo dealt with paedophiles almost too calmly, for all that they ended up dead. And he had always been this pretty.

"I can't really imagine you being a priest."

"I drank and smoked and had a four digit body count before I died. And I was a crack shot at 15."

Would she find him in records or history books if he told her a name and a faith? Did she want to want to know at what age he had become a holy man or how? The answers would probably depress her.

"That does seem more like you." she eyed him, relieved to see him settle against a statue. "But him? He's 17."

"He's a nice boy actually, believes in honesty and contraceptives and orgasms for all. And he's French so once the tournament is over I'll probably never have to see him again."

Well, there was that.

"Just wash your hands then The Munchkins were planning to kidnap the band weren't they?"

"Yes, why? Oh." He followed her gaze to the orange gas that was creeping towards them. "Miranda really was very cross that she couldn't come."

Yuki charmed her dress a few sizes bigger just before something under her bench hissed and spewed dense orange gas into the air.

"Yes, I'm sure she was. Help me out of this corset would you?"

"Probably a good idea. This gas is much thicker than the last batch."

"Nrgh." The corset finally came loose and he gulped much needed air into his newly expanded chest. "Ow. I expect it's supposed to last longer than the original mix."

"It will be hilarious if it lasts to the next task."

"The press would love it, the Great Genderswap of, oh shit. Damn. Damndamndamndamn. Indigo, Dumbledore is a woman now."

They sat in the slowly thinning smog, contemplating this new horror and listening to the panicked screams and crashes from the Great Hall.

"At least Trelawny stayed in her tower."

The last of the fog cleared in a rush that implied that Ron, or more likely Millicent, had had enough of this bullshit and taken action.

"You seemed to have more cleavage at the world cup."

"Well yes, I was wearing a corset."

"That would do it. We had best find Flare, she may have her mother's bust and heteronormative bullshit or not we can't let our sister deal with that alone. She's bound to make a hash of it in public."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Three of the four primary Munchkins viewed the scene with a curious blend of horror, amusement, anger and extremely grudging respect.

There would have been four of them, but Luna had been a little put out to discover his great resemblance to his late uncle Lucius and had gone to join the vast game of swapsies started by the younger students in the hope of finding the right garments to become a perfect copy so he could terrorize Karkaroff properly. His date was lurking near the snacks, drinking butterbeer and occasionally giving her new, quite substantial bosom a confused poke, which would have invited lewd comments in any circumstances but these.

"We have been out done." Stated Eric, straightening the dress she had borrowed from a petite 5th year and making careful guesses at the spelling of some of the words Monsieur Maxine used as he vented his displeasure. "We have, in fact, lost."

"Piped at the post by a postulate poisoner." Agreed Colin, how had found herself short enough to pull of the shirt and boxers look with style and was busily photographing the breakdowns a few of Durmstrangs newly female students were having. "Our plan can have no possible impact now."

"That will do gent- people." Alysandra frowned sternly at them, tapping one bare foot on the floor and adjusting the dress robe, donned that afternoon in protest at the ridiculous clothing demanded by a patriarchal society to restrict the freedom, and movements of women. "Yes, we are out done. Whatever. The sound system is still there and the band are fully occupied. Get the music going, we are going to steal credit."

"That would be rather rude of us."

"Upstaging us like this was rude, and it's ruined the party. We steal the prank and maybe the next time they feel like gender swapping people they'll dose the entire school at dinner like any proper poisoner would. Oh, and Colin? I don't think postulate means what you think it does."

"Oh, I know, but the alliteration sounds good."

Eric went to start the playlist, Colin continued her quest to gather blackmail on absolutely everyone capable of feeling shame and Alysandra went to look for a suitable partner in crime.

The opening cords of Shakira's 'Eyes Like Yours' ,filled the hall.

"Miss Potter, may I have the pleasure of this dance?"

"You may."

The Girl-who-lived had surprisingly mobile hips, and between this display and Alysandra's still fitting dress robes Dumbledore was almost certain to blame the Munchkins.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

One does not become an animagus without a certain degree of mental flexibility about the shape that you are or are supposed to be. It simply was not possible to shape shift while subconsciously resisting the change so open mindedness was a requirement, the only requirement really. In this, as in many things the power you had meant less than how you used it.

So Minerva McGonagall was only mildly put out by this sudden gender realignment. Shape was just a shape when you got right down to it, and hopefully this would last long enough to teach some of the more offensive young men some important lessons about respect for their female classmates. Muggleborns bought a number of very strange ideas with them and he felt that it would do certain people a great deal of good to know what menstruation actually felt like.

Prank or not, this would likely prove a good thing. So Albus should really calm down and stop making such a fuss, she was a transfiguration master and ought to know better. Yes the loss of his beard had revealed a rather weak chin but it was nothing to get so worked up about.

Severus was perfectly calm about it all, as was Percy Weasley who had stood in for Mr Crouch, and Bagman thought it was all absolutely hilarious and they would all be suffering period pains within a few weeks. Albus would be spared even that and Minerva couldn't help but think the headmistress should, to use the ugly muggle phrase, shut up and deal. Albus was letting the side down, though which side was anyone's guess.

"The culprit must be found and expelled! We have been humiliated before the international community! Not to mention this, this violation of our persons!"

Minerva raised an eyebrow, far from alone in his surprise at this announcement, and absently noted the way Severus had gone very still.

"Don't come on so Albus." Pomona had not been in the Great Hall at the time, and a number of her less violent plants were used in gender change potions. "This is hardly the first time that a few students have found themselves, not as they were. It's never mattered before."

"We have never before had over four hundred people suddenly the wrong gender! Including teachers, foreign students and a pair of Ministry officials!"

"Other schools will no doubt have had the same problems." Minerva frowned at the ex-man. "Sex change potions are hardly difficult to make, it will wear off."

"In a couple of months." Severus sounded perfectly calm, she was probably planning something. "Maybe three, to ensure it's cleared the blood stream entirely."

"Three months?!"

"If it hasn't worn off by then I'll distribute gender change potions, there could be side effects if I do before then."

"The second task is soon!"

"I expect people will be willing to lend the champions appropriate clothing."

"Quite!" chirped Flitwick, also himself and quite cheerful about everything. "My students have been swapping and adjusting and they're all nicely turned out this morning."

"Quite so." agreed Pomona. "The spells are not that hard. We are a school of magic after all."

Albus spluttered for a moment, screamed and stormed out.

"Has Poppy checked her? If she was taking another potions they could react strangely, and the hormonal changes, at her age…"

"Yes, she went. I suspected she's suffering from something the muggles call body horror. Mr Granger has promised to ask his parents to send some leaflets on it in case anyone else develops problems."

"Body horror?"

"Apparently it's something to do with your body not being the way it's supposed to be, or the way you feel like it's supposed to be."

Pomona looked unnerved for a moment, and then slightly ill as she considered all the implications of that sentence. Her aunt had been born male.

"Oh the poor things. Will Albus be alright?"

"I expect so, but we ought not trouble her for a while."

They agreed and took their leave. Severus lingered, an eyebrow raised. She always did know when someone wanted her attention.

"I think this could be a good thing, don't you? A cure to some of those ridiculous idea that are getting around."

"It should prove an effective deterrent to sexism, yes."

A perfectly bland tone. He knew he had seen her at the world cup, seen her as _her_, and Malfoy looked much the same as either gender.

"We might have to do it again in a few years. Do you think you can recreate this?"

"Probably. Gaseous."

"Whatever you think best Severus."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

The Prophet was too busy being sued to give the Great Genderswap more than a passing mention but the Wizzarding Times reported it with a certain dry amusement and a list or respectable potions makers where one could acquire permanent or temporary sex change potions. A number of previously ignorant muggle born's and half blood transsexuals celebrated.

Miranda would have been terribly smug about this, but she had declared vendetta over the theft of her prank and spent the week being stalked by furbies because Alysandra did not appreciate his new green skin and did not play fair.

Xxxxxxxxx

The day of the second task came, clear and bright and absolutely bloody freezing because it was February in Scotland and they were bloody lucky the lake wasn't covered in ice.

Because it was February. In Scotland. Asking people to go swimming at this time of year was an affront to man and beast, with the possible exception of otters who are screwing with us, and should have caused whoever thought of it to lock themselves in a box in sheer embarrassment. Only civil servants had thought of it, and civil servants lose the capacity to feel shame after prolonged exposure to politicians, who can turn saints into sadists anyway.

On a brighter note the gender swapped where still gender swapped, Dumbledore was drinking a lot of soothing tea's, Goyle had finally worked out toileting with her new privet parts and lavender Browns hysterics had driven even Parvati over the edge, getting him soundly slapped. And every furbie had been located, covered in salt and set on fire, much to the relief of pretty much everyone.

"Making us swim in 'zis weather is 'orrible." Muttered Fleur, eyeing the water with trepidation. "'Zere was frost this morning."

Cedric shrugged and Victor gave the Frenchman a derisive snort but Harry, firmly wrapped in her warmest robes, hummed her agreement.

"It is quite indecent. Shall we work together in the interest of staying dry?"

Fleur gave her a suspicious look.

"Staying dry?"

"I insist upon it."

"We 'ave an accord."

Bagman finished talking and the other champions headed into the water while Fluer offered his arm, Harry accepted and they walked primly out together, onto the surface of the lake.

The crowd did not seem to think much of this.

"Thank you, 'Arry."

"Think nothing of it. This task does seem, rather heavily weighed against you and that is most impolite."

"True. My magic 'es with air and fire. Veela are not meant for cold or deep water. "He grimaced slightly and drew his wand. "A locator spell. 'ah think."

"I bow to your superior knowledge."

Fleur muttered something and a orange-gold cord unspooled from his wand and slid into the dark water beneath their feet.

"Follow 'ze cord."

Harry focused, breathed and shaped them a staircase to the lake bed, letting the water close overhead as they descended.

Fleur whispered something in French, somewhere between a curse and a prayer.

"Is it truly so difficult?"

"How would you feel in a desert? A place without water? 'Zis 'es not my element and everything here knows it. _Relashio!"_

The grindylow gave a strange chattering screech and clawed its way back into the water as its companions glared at them.

"I would be, weak, and very much alone." Harry saw the strange stone huts and the cord, the only bright thing here, stretching between them. "Indigo never said, I dropped a pond on her once."

"She 'es young, and veela blood flows weakly in 'ze male line." The merpeople eyed them and Fleur glowered back, clutching his wand. "Still, it would 'ave been most uncomfortable."

They rounded a corner and saw the four people tied to the statue behind what looked like a choir.

"Gabrielle!"

"Someone is going to bleed for this."

They ran, a path forming before them as they went to their hostages. A merman thrust his spear into their path and Fleur incinerated it, fire curling around his finger, a clear threat to anything that came between him and his sister.

Susan and Cho Chang slept, seemingly peaceful, but Indigo twitched against the stone and Gabrielle looked to be trapped in horrible dreams, until the air broke over her and Fleur cut away her bonds with a snarled spell.

"Indigo?"

"Nrgh." She focused with clear difficulty. "They drugged the tea."

"You would have burnt out the spell if they hadn't, you know that."

"I don't want to drown."

"Quite right." The bonds broke, torn apart but the water that saturated them and Harry caught the blond as she feel away from the stone, into his arms. "Easy now, we'll get back to open air soon, get you dried out."

Indigo let her haul an arm around her shoulders and draw her away from the statue, but amethyst eyes stayed fixed on her bare feet as they moved over the lake floor.

"'Arry. I think we should leave now." Fleur burned another spear, carefully holding his sister as he scowled at the aggravated mermen. "Immediately."

"Soon. We should wait for Victor to collect Susan at least."

"'_Arry. _Magic 'es part of 'ze metabolic process. So is 'ze potion that keeps you female. I do not want to be down here when it wears off and with the magic you are using it could very soon. 'Zat would be, painful."

The merpeople circled them, and dangerous promise, and Gabrielle wrapped her legs more firmly about her brothers waist.

""I do not like leaving them."

"'Zey are not aligned to fire, the spells on 'zem will 'old. We must go."

Harry bit her lip, but Indigo was shivering hard now, and there seemed little enough choice. The water formed beneath them and lifted them back to the cold, crisp air and clear light.

"Nrgh."

"Wait ten minutes and you can be sick on Dumbledore."

"…okay."

"'oo will 'Ah be sick on?"

"Whoever you please my love. So long as 'zey remain flammable."

Xxxxxxx

The prank war between Alysandra and Miranda had escalated rapidly over the last month and a half, involving glitter, cursed ribbons, complex illusions, assorted hexes, dung bombs, homemade gunpowder, live mice and animated Barbie dolls, which were ineffective but creepy. They had driven a quarter of the serpents house to seek refuge in other dorms and proven to all and sundry that the Slytherins were actually more frightening when they were fighting each other than when they banded together to fight everyone else.

Furbies. The explosions were one thing but furbies were just… No.

They watched Harry walk off the lake, a distinctly unhappy Fleur carrying a crying child behind him and a visibly shaking Indigo barely staying upright at his side. They saw Cedric and Cho crawl out and Pomfrey defend upon them, her anger channelled into looking after people. They saw Susan shivering as Victor helped him ashore. They looked at each other thoughtfully as the judges tent burned.

"I am more angry with them than I am with you."

"Agreed. Truce."

"Truce. Fleur has Maxine pinned down and Susan will handle Bagman. I suggest we heard the remainder between the stands and the lake to limit their escape routes."

"Yes. And you should contact your mother."

"Papa will do that." Miranda rolled her shoulders, eyeing the positions of Fleur, an ally, Harry who had reverted to masculinity mid rant and Neville who sat beside Indigo with a blanket and a focused air. "We'll need Colin. This could easily get legal on us."

"Fudge is a twat."

"That to, but Fleur's mother, Apolline is an ambassador."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Neville knelt opposite her not-sister, their breathing matched as she finally coaxed her out of her bloody-lake/rivers-I-refuse-to-drown freak out and into the needed, meditative state.

The bystanders were more than a little unnerved when the blond girls shirt, which was really very revealing when wet, began to steam.

* * *

><p>Next time, 'cause Fudge don't learn; Repercussions (the remix)<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

Lotus seed: I've been thinking about re-visiting the gender swapping for a while now actually, its interesting to play with.

akitty: Cheers

Firehedgehog: Maybe a little

lordamnesia: He has water mojo, it was always going to be a cake walk

Kuroi in a Black Hole: I bring the snark! Whenever you have time, I know how life slows writing down.

Umei no Mai: An authority with no-one plotting against them is up to something really dodge, but this many plots is not a good thing.

Authors note: The song is Don't Blame Me by Emilie Autumn, otherwise known as the best break up song ever.

* * *

><p><span>Repercussions (failed)<span>

Fudge was livid, all outraged and offended and turning purple in a way that Vernon Dursley could only envy these days, having lost several stone after Petunia had been obliged to get a job as they no longer received a stipend for Harry's care. It was a remarkable shade that clashed horribly with the walls, his hat and his Senior Under sectary's cardigan, but then most things did.

There is pink and then there is pink, okay? This is not a good pink, particularly when it's on anyone over the age of five. Which Delores Umbridge most certainly was, even if she didn't always sound that way.

"-we cannot carry on this way! Those insane children are running riot on the very fabric of our society! As if the house elf nonsense wasn't enough-" The Elf Rights Act had passed the week before with a landslide majority, confirming house elves with protection from all physical punishment and their right to plentiful food, comfortable lodgings and pay if they wanted it. The Wizengamot might be full of muggle-phobic bigots but they were the muggle-phobic bigots of the nobility, and being rude to the servants was for plebeians and unionists. "-but now this gender changing nonsense at Hogwarts, and this flagrant attack on the Tournament organisers! Wizarding Britain is humiliated! And this flagrant attack on the Prophet! It is an assault on all our fine nation was built on and I just know they're responsible!"

Cornelius Fudge meant every word he said, and generally did. Cornelius Fudge is that special sort of stupid, also found in such notables as George W. Bush junior and King Charles I of England and Scotland, though he is significantly better at public relations than either of them. Or rather he used to be, until his tame reporter vanished and his pet editor became a permanent feature in a courtroom he couldn't shut down with a judge he couldn't control.

"I quite agree Cornelius, they attack all that we stand for."

Delores Umbridge also meant everything that she said, but since she also understands most of it a lot of that meaning is ironic. She had been idealistic once, a bright young star and potential charms mistress, but she had been Imperio'd over fifty times during the war and had come out of it, wrong. Politics had done nothing to improve her mental state.

"We must stop them Delores! They cannot be allowed to continue in this disgraceful manner! Half of them are headed for the Wizengamot for goodness sake! We have to leash them, perhaps the Pro-"

"I fear we can no longer count on the Prophet, despite the Ministries, interests." Controlling shares as it happened, you couldn't pay people to take them now. "More direct action may be needed."

"Ah, I fear you may be right. We simply must put a stop to it, after all."

There were, ways to do that. Ways that Cornelius was not quite ruthless enough to consider. It would have to be done carefully though, there were a number of issues to each plan, to many devoted guardians.

The door slammed open to reveal the foremost of said devoted guardians, Apolline Delcour, the French Ambassador and mother of the Beauxbatons champion and a half Veela. Beautiful, despite her fury.

"What 'ze 'ell do you think you are doing!?"

"Lady Delcour there is no call for-"

"You attack _my daughters_ and say there is no cause?!"

"Hem, hem." Delores meet Apolline's glare with a little smile. "You will recall that Miss Delcour entered the tournament of her own free will and, in doing so entered into a contract-"

"Gabrielle signed no contract!"

"The contract, if I may finish, consents to all that is required to complete the assigned tasks, including-"

The fire ball unravelled just before her face, scorching her eyebrows and filling the room with the stench of burning hair.

She dared?! That disgusting little half breed, that animal dared to-

"Bring your contract and watch it be un-made! England may be fool enough to forget it's duty but _France protects 'er children_!"

Delores could use this, such anger could be misdirected.

"I think you will find our contracts quite, durable, ambassador but by all means; let it be sent for."

Let her see what her unnatural daughter was in for.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Half of the Hit Squad and a third of the Munchkin Army had detention every night for a month, and were joined in their boredom by fifteen individuals who could not be proven to be Defenders of Anarchy, plus the usual pranksters and curfew breakers.

This was going about as well as could be expected, and Sirius was blatantly ecstatic about Harry finally living up to his Marauder heritage by gaining epic amounts of detentions, so that was nice.

Neville had no detentions. Nor did Hannah, Hazel, Indigo, Padma Patil or the Gryffindor chasers, which would have been fine, had they not all, in their own special ways, taken part in the destruction of the stands and felt vaguely insulted when this was ignored.

There was some discussion about this subject and then, a shopping trip.

And thus it was that Hannah walked into breakfast wearing tight jeans, cowboy boots, a waistcoat with the Huffelpuff crest on one breast, some leather bracelets and absolutely nothing else.

And in February in a drafty Scottish castle. For shame.

But that drew little enough attention when he had Neville on his arm. Men's clothing, or a lack there off, is rarely that interesting. Neville however, wore puff sleeves and a tightly laced corset, a shirt as short as it was frilly and a broach of the Huffelpuff crest proudly displayed on the lowest point of her dangerously low neckline.

Bending over in that dress would be a recipe for disaster.

The observers boggled. They goggled. They stared in slightly lusty and extremely confused silence. The muggleborns tried to work out if magic had a boob tape equivalent and the 1st and 2nd years, being largely hormone free, ignored it entirely because breakfast is better and more important than other people's skin.

Hannah and Neville seemed to agree with this assessment and went to breakfast, cheerfully ignoring the way the Headmistress kept twitching and soon most people calmed down and accepted the situation. People tend to when you act as though you have every right to do whatever it is you are doing, which is why many of the most successful poisoners know a lot about sauces, seasoning and salad dressing.

Then Indigo strode in, having gone in search of clothing once she'd consumed enough caffeine to think in sentences, wearing what pornography thought was female office wear. Tight skirt, slit almost to the hip, a white button up shirt thin enough to glimpse her bra through, artfully dishevelled hair and glossy black shoes with 4 inch stiletto heels that were almost certainly going to kill somebody, if only for the things they did to her long shapely and oddly hairless legs.

Somebody whimpered. Several other somebody's, including Harry, choked on their tea.

Indigo straightened her tie, gave a sneer that would do all of her haughty pureblood ancestors proud and went in search of a non-liquid breakfast. The balance involved in walking so gracefully on the uneven stone floors was just not bloody fair.

The whimpers got louder, but were mostly drowned out by people coughing up things that had gone down the wrong tube.

"In-di-go… Stop taking fashion tips from my mother!"

"Stop insulting Ma-ji. She has far too much class to wear this."

The discussion might have gone somewhere had Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet not chosen this moment to strut in.

There was a lot of leather and mesh and trousers that left absolutely nothing to the imagination and Angelica might still be male but that had not stopped him from donning a pleated leather miniskirt.

A lot of people were feeling very confused about their sexualities anyway, the sight of Angelina Johnsons long, lean and decidedly masculine legs was going to break someone.

"I am glad to see that you are all comfortable in your, altered bodies, but you are required to ear the uniforms during the weekday."

"Apparently the uniform consists of the robe and house crest or tie," said Katie mildly, "and is only required during lessons."

"Can you prove this, Mr Bell?"

"Yes Professor McGonagall, I checked the book out of the library. Would you like to see?"

The deputy headmistress -who had reverted to femininity mid lesson the day before- nodded imperiously and read the marked page, seemingly unaware of the way the table was shaking under Albus's still feminine hands.

"You appear to be correct, though this is entirely contrary to common decency and most inappropriate."

"Strangely enough, common decency is not a requirement. Good morning professor."

Perhaps Katie had always moved like his hips were oiled, but no-one had appreciated it before now.

The trio settled at their house table and took the mixture of wolf whistles, outrage and propositions with their normal aplomb.

The normal run of late comers drifted in. A few minutes later they were followed by Hazel and Padma, which would have been all well and good had they not elected to cos-play Game of Thrones. As it was Hazel wore the semi-sheer dress of Daenarys Targaryen and Padma was showing off the mussel developed by carrying large books around in the snug trousers and patchy leather armour of a dothraki blood rider.

It suited them better than was entirely comfortable and Snape, who had just walked in, turned around and walked straight back out again on the ground that this could not possibly end well and she didn't want to watch. This also meant that she didn't see what Indigo was wearing and therefore didn't have to poison everyone in the hall for the crime of looking at her goddaughter and thinking the thoughts those clothes were supposed to provoke.

Albus made an odd little noise.

Hazel took a slightly to long step and the gauzy fabric clung indecently to her leg.

The spell shot clean between the tables and took Julian clear in the chest as he -who had reverted several days ago along with most of the 7th year boys- leapt to push Hazel out of the way, a shield flickering up to late to do any good.

There was an ugly sound as he hit the Ravenclaw table, narrowly avoiding going head first into a dish of porridge, before bouncing to the floor.

Albus clutched her wand, wild around the eyes, her gazed fixed on the shield that Padma had raised, now layered and re-enforced by a dozen other students. The teachers stunning spells scattered across her shields.

The Huffelpuffs and Ravenclaws flowed around Hazel and Padma as the fled the hall with an order that spoke of the practice they had been getting, and plans made in advance. The Slytherins were leaving via a side door, because of course they had one, and the Gryffindors weren't going anywhere because there is a very thin line between being brave and being stupidly bloody-minded. The 1st years, however, had been shoved under the table and the more sensible were contemplating an undignified escape.

"I will not have this." Dumbledore sounded terribly calm. "I will not tolerate this nonsense, this obscene nonsense any longer."

"I cannot help but feel that you are rather over reacting, headmistress."

Indigo must have expected the spells aimed at her, but the rest of the hall had defiantly not expected the series of twists, flips and somersaults she executed to avoid them, which ended with McGonagall almost managing to break Dumbledore's shields and Indigo balanced on the Slytherin table, one foot carefully raised to avoid a dish of bacon.

"Blessed art thou, bringer of balance!"

"Hail goddess!"

"By your grace we fall-eth over not!"

The Nutters flung themselves dramatically at the patch of floor closest to her feet, and Indigo graced them with an enigmatic smile.

"In the end, you will always kneel."

"Hell yeah!"

Ron was smack soundly around the head for this, but didn't seem to mind.

"I'll not have this! This is my school-"

"Have you been taking soothing potions, professor?" Harry's tone was mild, his voice clear."A little something in your tea, perhaps?"

"Quite understandable, of course." Indigo accepted the offered hand and stepped daintily to the floor, fingers across Harry's palm, her voice full of faux sympathy. "This has been difficult; you just need a little, settling."

"But there could be anything in the unknown potion, the ingredients…"

"The reactions could do, almost anything."

"Erratic behaviour is a perfectly normal symptom of emotional stabilisers going amiss. The other potion could have a more, troublesome affect…"

"It could become permanent."

Albus screamed and hurled a hex at them, shifted back to man halfway though and crumpled when Malificent hit him with a platter. The spell vanished against Harry's shield.

"Julian?"

"I'm fine." The tall boy got to his feet, and tugged up his shirt to show the silver etched dark gloss of his armour. "I had a feeling something like this would happen."

"Don't you ever do that again!"

"I cannot promise you that, Hazel, but I will try not to."

The silver haired girl made a pained noise and buried herself in his arms.

Harry went to check for any wounded, and Padma slowly approached the golden haired woman he left behind.

"Did you plan this?"

"No." there was something bleak in her voice. "I arrived too early. He was supposed to aim for me." There was silence for a moment, then she turned away. "Best change clothes, I expect someone from the board of governors will be here soon."

Padma listened to the sharp click of her heels as she walked away, turned and made a shallow bow to the blonds retreating back.

A hitch in her stride implied that she had caught the sentiment, even if she hadn't seen the gesture.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"We still need him."

"I don't like that tone Susan, or those words."

"I don't like saying them, but Dumbledore seriously limits the Ministry's intervention at Hogwarts, and thus their ability to act against us. Someone is reading our mail. We still need him."

Tracy pulled a face, leaning into his beloved as she summed up what they were all thinking.

"Well, shit."

Xxxxxxxxxx

The Board of Governors was Not Happy, which would have been fine and dandy and reasonable, had they not sent Lady Augusta Longbottom to express this. It would have been better if she could just be pointed at Dumbledore and left to vent her spleen, but Poppy had cast a diagnostic spell and removed him from duty on 'medical grounds' which was a nice, polite way of saying 'Potters right, the silly bugger's gone and poisoned himself'. And all this really meant was that McGonagall had to deal with Augusta, and the Ministry representatives who had been sent to poke nose.

The only bright side was that Percy Weasley, still female and seemingly quite cheerful about it, had come to deliver the final and wonderfully well organised plans for the final task because her boss was ill. Any day was much improved by the absence of Bartimus Crouch Senior.

"…he'll get a vote of no confidence soon. Dumbledore will have to go, permanently."

"For good? He's been part of the institution for a long time Augusta, according to a lot of people he is the organisation."

"He certainly thinks so." Augusta's tone was sharp, slightly menacing. "But then he just attacked two students. We cannot let this go. Nor should we. You know all of that Minerva, why all of this dithering?"

"The Ministry is paying entirely too much attention to us, and if Albus is gone Hogwarts no longer has his influence to protect it, and the Board is to fractious to be relied on. You are familiar with your grandsons more, pro-active companions, I hope?"

"Met a few of them."

"They are trouble, clever, astute and dangerous trouble, but they are my students. I do not have enough political power to keep Fudge and his lackeys away from them, or the school. And those children worry me Augusta, but they do far more good than harm."

"Harry's a bright lad, he'll toe the line."

"Except when his friends are threatened, you know what happened after the second task. I won't deny that Malfoy was in danger, he and Gabrielle Delcour far too strongly aligned to fire magic to be safe around merpeople, but the destruction caused was over the top."

"Yes, but the entire situation could easily have been avoided. I never liked that hostage situation anyway, and Dumbledore must have known of their inclinations and he should have done something. He's losing it."

"He's been losing it for a while now, did you know his phoenix vanished over a year ago? The perch and the dishes are still about but no-one has seen the bird since Neville killed the basilisk."

"And that's when the cracks really started to show." Augusta tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair. "Can Poppy keep him on medical leave until summer?"

"I expect she could find a reason."

"She always was, inventive. We keep him, present but sidelined until this blasted tournament is over. Then we remove him entirely. I can bully the rest of the board into it. Think you can find a new transfiguration professor in good time?"

"I rather expect Malificent could recommend someone."

"The vampires settled in well then?"

"Remarkably so."

"Where is she getting blood anyway?"

"Albus made arrangements; they seem to have proved adequate."

"Are you sure about that? Neville's shared some, interesting bits of trivia, sort of thing one might pick up talking to a centuries old historian, and he's not one to follow teachers about."

"You think she acquired donors?"

"Albus was not happy about having a vampire on the staff and we all knew it. But, well if you've met Harry's relatives you know he has reason to hate Dumbledore for leaving him there, and Malfoy has the right sort of mind to come up with something like this. Likes his enemies off balance and twitching at shadows. I wouldn't put it past either of them the help her to hurt him, and the rest would follow them."

There was a moment of silence.

"You have given me a great deal to think about Lady Longbottom."

"I'm doing something right then. I look forward to working with you in the future, Headmistress McGonagall."

They shook hands, and Augusta left the office.

They had loathed each other once, the young Gryffindor McGonagall heiress had recognised the Slytherin ward of house Longbottom as the threat that she was and reacted accordingly. Time, the war and exposure to Poppy Pomfrey had lead them first to mutual respect, and then to a sort of friendship or allegiance. Two formidable women united against first another rather more formidable woman and then a world gone mad.

But even when she hated her Minerva had never doubted Augusta's intelligence, so she needed to have a little chat with Catherine Malificent.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

The Ministry was ever so unhappy with them. But the ministry had just come dramatically afoul of the unexpected and utterly terrifying allegiance of Amelia Bones, Narcissa Black-Snape -with the combined might of her eldest children and their inherited Wizengamot seats in her hands- Augusta Longbottom and Appoline Delcour.

It was a pity that reporters were not allowed into Wizengamot sessions, because the Wizarding Times would have had a field day with this. Fudge had actually whimpered, and Umbridge had really confused everyone when she burst out laughing.

Ultimately, the governing body of magical Britain was reduced to sending a representative to give the entire school, and their guests, a stern talking too.

He was talking about subsections. It was really rather ghastly.

"There is a song."

"…furthermore, in deference to section 219 of…"

"A song, Tracy?"

"A song that sums up my feelings about this situation. But I can't remember how it starts."

Harry sighed sadly, Hazel shook his head and Luna patted her hand comfortingly.

"There, there. Can you hum it?"

"…in accordance with the 1739 act of…"

"Oh I can hum it, I just can't remember the words."

"Perhaps if we share the humming someone else will?" Luna looked more vacant than normal for a moment, and Indigo raised her head from the Slytherin table and peered at them.

"…this shameful disrespect for our laws…"

-_Yes minions?-_

"There is a song that will express my thoughts upon this bullshit. If I hum it and you share the tune someone might remember the words."

A few Ravenclaws peered at her interestedly, but even they were staggeringly board and people talking to thin air was reduced to near entertainment. Besides, they had magic, people talking to thin air was not always a sign of insanity.

"…the poor conduct of our youth…"

Tracy started humming, and on the other side of the hall Jackie started singing.

"_The sun goes down the same as it did before/ The roses die as there petals fall to the floor/ The opera was always an awful bore/ So don't blame me."_

His voice was unremarkable, but in tune and well projected. The representative stuttered to a halt, much to everyone's great relief.

Jackie kept going, joined now by Yuki and a handful of older muggle-borns.

"_Your poetry was never in vast supply/ So if you're less inspired I wouldn't cry/ Your broken heart is hardly the reason why/ So don't blame me."_

Others joined the song.

"_You weren't as good at dancing as you evidently thought/ You swear that you were charming once I promise you were not/ So if you're treated badly now I'd scarcely be surprised/ You're seen for what you really are, its time you realised/ That if you fear you're finally going grey/ You were a long time ago that should make you day/ Your dog was never your best friend anyway/ So don't blame me."_

"There's a break here."

_-Let's skip it. Join me?-_

The singers descended into confused, if accurate silence and Tracy and Indigo's voices rose to take over the song.

Both had always had exceptional voices that blended beautifully, neither time or gender re-alignment had done anything to diminish this fact.

"_You've never thought of anything original before/ So why should you be startled if you can't think anymore?/ And getting out of bed is now a challenge on its own/ And eating's even harder/ I don't care leave me alone!/I know a woman's power is un-denied/ And if I'd ruined your life I'd be filled with pride/ Yet I could not harm you even if I tried/ So don't, don't, don't blame me/ Don't blame me!"_

Professor Moody led the clapping. Probably evil impersonator he might be, but it was sometimes hard not to like him.

"Silence! Silence! This is- You dare-" The man took a deep breath, marshalling his thoughts.

Eric stood up, kicking off shoes that were suddenly too small and performed a odd sideways crab shimmy as he struggled to remove that bra that no longer fit and he no longer needed.

"Can someone lend me some shoes? The floors bloody cold."

There was really no point even trying to give a lecture after that.

Xxxxxxxxxx

There were other attempts at boring them into submission, but McGonagall wasn't impressed, Dumbledore, once he got out of the Hospital Wing, was even less so and most of the 5th and 7th years ganged up on anyone from the Ministry who did manage to get though in protest to the disruption of their study time.

Fudge seemed to give up as the spring equinox approached, and Indigo stumbled into the Great Hall, female once more –despite having reverted to male form several weeks ago- only slightly high this time and ranting about lunar cycles and how all magical societies should obviously be matriarchal without fear of legal repercussions.

In fact, since the Easter holidays started the next day it was left to her parents to provide suitable punishment, and judging by Snape's dark expression they would.

* * *

><p>next time: Proving Politics Unhealthy<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

lordamnesia: Chaos and mayhem and things on fire. And now, alas you are to be disappointed.

Chaos Babe: Anything in particular or in general? There's plenty to wonder about. I think that tactic might have worked, if they had started with it. To late now.I always wondered why she didn't seem to object to the potential drowning of her youngest in cannon.

Firehedgehog: Cheers

Reader of Words: It's a good song, and eminently suited to the Hit Squad.

Daughter of Jehova: Born in 1881 apparently, and influential for a long time as well. I think the hostile take over may have already started. Which wasn't intentional, but...

Umei no Mai: They are the scary old ladies who secretly run the world.

Kuroi In a Black Hole: My brain is a strange place. When you have time.

chasesane: Thanks. I really like youruser name.

Authors note: This was meant to be something entirely different you know. So much for that . I would like to take this moment to point out that there are lots of perfectly nice people in religions and the communes thereof. I would also like to point out that anyone even faintly weird is going to get very weird indeed if their kid can suddenly teleport, and since there are amazingly few muggleborns at Hogwarts, despite the population explosion of the last few decades perhaps these things are connected?

* * *

><p><span>Rehab was a Bad Idea<span>

"You look like shit." stated Ron, a sort of surprised concern in his voice. "I didn't know that was possible man. What happened?"

"Expensive muggle rehab." said Indigo, who did indeed look legitimately awful rather than the pretty but vaguely anaemic exhaustion he had shown in previous bad times. "It was supposed to be full of whiny rich kids with no actual problems. Turns out some of them have really good reasons for their drug habit, so now there's a body count and a recently heroin addicted abuse victim staying in my house."

Susan processed this quietly, one eye on Miranda and the attentive concern she was aiming at her brother.

"How did you get that past the Ministry of Magic?"

"Didn't have to. It seems not all muggleborns get to Hogwarts."

There was a weird tightness around his eyes, and Ron failed to comment in a way that would have had alarm bells ringing even without the other, obvious signs of not good-ness.

Hannah offered chocolate in silent comfort.

Indigo blinked at it, then at her and started laughing, half mania and half strangled scream, like the deeply damaged and arguably insane person he had clearly been spending too much time around for his own empathic good.

Miranda didn't even react violently.

The train started moving and jerked Ron out of his frozen panic.

"Shit. Shiiiiit! We need Harry and Neville and like, Snape or something. Damnit I can hardly deal with your normal band of crazy, stop it!"

"Sorry." The word was gasped out between pained laughter and chocked sobs as tears started to fall. "Sorry, sorry."

Ron shrieked, which wasn't exactly an unreasonable response.

"NO! No! You do not apologise because that is not what you do because you don't! Ever! Stop it right fucking now! Who do I need to kill?! Because I will commit all the murder if you just stop okay?! Just stop and give me a list!"

"Can't. Killed them all. Fire and acid in the bone. The _smell_…"

Hazel bit his lip so hard it started bleeding and bolted out of the compartment. Hopefully he was looking for Harry and Neville, hopefully he would come back.

He might not, he was a nice boy at heart, with loving parents and a sweet boyfriend. And Indigo had just very blatantly admitted to several murders, which hadn't happened before.

Oh, they all knew that Quirrell and Lockhart were dead, but it was a silent understanding. No-one actually came out and said 'I killed them' and you could ignore it if you wanted to.

Susan didn't doubt that the, not victims not really, had deserved to die, had needed to be removed from the world, but maybe not as messily as they had been. She didn't doubt that Indigo and the victim who was no longer a victim and wouldn't be again –fire was his style but acid wasn't, so clearly someone with a very good reason for hate had been involved- had not been in their right minds when they took, revenge. A feedback loop of some sort, pain feeding anger feeding murderous, sadistic but always directed violence until it broke somehow. Leaving them with the corpses of people who had died in agony and the sick realisation that they had done this, were capable of doing this.

Indigo was clawing at the inside of his wrist, fighting not to cry as Miranda plastered herself to his side. Ron whimpered at the first drop of blood and ran. He would be back, if he wanted to be or not.

"Indigo." She wrapped her fingers around his wrists, watching the bloody fingernails still once he could no longer hurt himself without hurting her first. "Why?"

"Because they hurt them." He sounded so rational, for a moment. "Over and over again and fuck _that_. She had a big sister, the strong one, she protected them. Best she could. Then she died and they're all muggleborns, you know, all of their kids and they hated them all and it wasn't their fault! It was never their fault!"

Susan whipped his tears away and watched fresh ones replace them.

"An impossible situation, hence the drugs."

"One of her first shrinks, the bastard, didn't believe her, no-one believes her when she speaks. No one ever wants to know the reasons for the crazy."

"People are too often terrible."

"I think we killed every adult in the, commune? What do you call it when arseholes get together and pretend to have a respectable religion to shit all over?"

"But not the children."

"Never children."

Harry hurried in, Hazel running on in the corridor.

"Indigo?"

"He and a heroin addict killed all the adults in a religious group because they where child abusers. And possibly a shrink as well, whatever that is."

"I have heard worse reasons."

"They died very slowly." added Miranda, who seemed to have some issues with this fact, but love of her brother rendered them largely irrelevant. "Screaming, a lot. There are 11 traumatised muggleborns at home and we aren't sure what to do with them."

"Not leaving them behind was a good start. Indigo, look at me."

He did, but it seemed to be a struggle.

"Tell me."

"Eye balls boil before they burn. And acid in the bones, right in the marrow just eating outwards. They took so long to die and the smell, I expected the screaming but I just can't shake the smell."

"It will fade, eventually."

"They were in agony. Bella would be so proud of me."

Neville walked in just in time to hear the last part, so it was probably a good thing that Indigo was obviously hysterical.

Xxxxxxxxx

Daniel was chattering away quite happily to a confused but cheerful two year old and a pair of very, very quiet four year olds. None of the children seemed particularly bothered by her youngest verbal flood, but how could they begrudge him when he so happily shared his wonderful toys?

Narcissa knew Lialle was watching the four little ones as they played in the grass, but she liked to know where her baby boy was, and looking out the window at them was easier than looking at the eldest of her sons new, acquisitions.

She had never met an actual muggel before. Muggleborns, yes, of course, but never real muggles. Given what Severus had said of his father, how Indigo spoke of the Dursleys and what they had driven Liz –who could not stand to be called Elizabeth- to do, had driven her son to do though the girl, she rather suspected that she didn't want to. Despite the admittedly excellent pralines.

These sick, mad creatures had been given the gift of magical children and they did that? Voldemort never seemed so sane as when she looked in the eyes of these lost children.

"If this fostering system is in place, why did no-one come to get us?"

The girl sounded every bit as bad as Indigo had when he left just a few hours ago, shock sick and hoarse from screaming themselves awake.

"The system isn't in place, the legislation was simply never removed. It was made voluntary when the funding was cut, oh, over a century ago. A few of the old families held onto it, for decades some of them, but there are very few Wards of the House left. You and your, kinsmen will be the first in over sixty years. It will cause quite a stir I expect."

"If I agree."

"Your agreement is not actually required, legally, merely wanted. Historically we simply took any muggle born that was found, and they had no right to object until they had completed their OWLs, by which point most didn't want to anymore. Your guardianship is just a matter of, paper work."

"I have no rights then."

"You have the rights the Head of your House grants to you, as well as the right to food, clothing, education and healers as needed granted to any vassal of one of the Ancient and Noble houses."

"So I may choose, but only because Indigo wishes me to have choices."

Narcissa turned and looked at her. She was no beauty, this girl. Too pale and too thin, her hair an unremarkable brown that washed out her complexion all the more, her greeny eyes a little too close together, her mouth sulky and her nose cute and snub and too small for the rest of her face. She might be pretty once sunlight and nutrition restored vitality to her skin and hair and the marks of her addiction, driven from her blood by a simple potion, faded. There was a stillness though, the watchful eyes of a wounded animal. Though would probably be with her for life.

"Precisely."

Greeny eyes drifted towards the window, finding the playmates.

"Fill out the paperwork, please."

Narcissa waved her wand, and sent the papers where they needed to go.

"Dreamless Sleep potions are somewhat addictive, but even just one goodnight's sleep a week would be of help to you."

"I still hear them screaming, all the time."

She was sixteen and the oldest of all the children by four years, and Narcissa understood that she had an elder sister who had died under suspicious circumstances. That, was probably important.

"They will never hurt you, or anyone else again. Remember how much they hurt you."

"I do, sometimes I remember the screams and smile. And then I have to run to a toilet to vomit."

"That is because you are better than them, even if you don't always act like it. No-one blames you."

"Ah? Shall we blame Indigo then? I couldn't have done it without his mind."

"As he could not have done it without you. No, blame them. Those who mindfully hurt innocent children for things beyond their control. They reaped what they sowed, no more."

"I wish we had killed them quickly."

"Don't we all child, don't we all." The copses had been, disgusting. "But it is done now, and nothing will make it otherwise."

A faint, strange smile and a vague nod, and not for the first time Narcissa wished she had Andomeda's talent in legillmency. But then she was probably happier not knowing what was going though Liz's mind.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You are troubled."

Hazel twitched violently and dropped his toothbrush in the sink.

He refused to blush at the eyebrow arched at him. Anyone who said panic wasn't a valid reaction to being cornered by Harry Potter in a bathroom had never actually met Harry Potter.

"Well, I am now."

"As you have been for most of the day. Why?"

"You know why."

"I do, but I want to hear you say it."

"It is not every day a friend, a fourteen year old friend, confesses to murder."

"Of a group of people who actively abused their children for no crime other than having magic. It could have been you in their hands, or the Creeveys, or Hermione, or Dean or any other muggle born in the school. How would you feel to never learn magic? To never know that your powers were normal and there were thousands of people like you?"

"They were probably scared, wouldn't you be?"

"And their children weren't? Your parents weren't?"

"Of course they were scared, I turned the dog pink."

"And yet they never hurt you, and Dean's moving pictures were just discreetly hidden and Hermione was only told of for levitating books when she did it in public. And none of you would hurt your families, even if stuck in a mental link with a grumpy empath. Even one with very firm ides about the proper treatment of children."

"I know that. It doesn't make it easier. He killed a lot of people with no way to defend themselves."

"Don't underestimate people with frying pans, no-one with a kitchen is entirely helpless if the decide not to be. Their children would have had far more trouble getting at the knives."

"He is fourteen."

"I was eleven when I killed Quirrell, and it wasn't really his fault that he got possessed by the evil dead."

Hazel couldn't quite meet his eyes any more. He had known, of course, he just, hadn't."

"Hm." There was some judgement in the sound. "Goodnight Hazel."

"Night."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Tracy was waiting outside, much to the alarm of the other 4th year boys who didn't quite know what to make of her, even when she wasn't making late night visits to their dorm.

"Well?"

"As expected. Anyone else?"

"Dean is having trouble, as is Hermione and Susan. We are all, I think, disquieted by the method but that is unanimous and unlikely to cause trouble."

"I see. Any word on the next task?"

"No, and no sign of Mr Crouch either. Nor is the Moody situation in anyway resolved."

"I see. Thank you Tracy."

"You are most welcome. Goodnight Harry, gentlemen."

They responded in polite chorus as she left.

"Is she seeing anyone?"

"Hermione Granger, who is entirely capable of arranging for you to disappear entirely, if she so desires."

Antony sighed heavily and said no more.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Minerva gazed over the hall from her place besides Albus's pointedly empty seat –he was not taking the news of his impending retirement with any grace at all- and calculated the probability that the disturbance among the Hit Squad, even more apparent now than it had been last night, had something to do with Severus's clear stress.

The trouble had hit them on the train then, and now the shock had worn off and they were struggling to deal with, whatever it was.

Albus was sulking in his office a lot at the moment, and shouldn't be too much of a problem if he tied to do something about the issue. The ministry, however, might try to take advantage of the distraction of their core group of, inconvenience creators if they heard about it.

They were her students, and had shaken up the government in an entirely deserved manner.

So, how could the Ministry be prevented from hearing about this little, problem?

Xxxxxxxxxx

_How do you do stupid and awful things without completely losing the moral high ground?_

_Indigo_

_P.S Try re-writing in Sanskrit_

Xxxxxxxxxx

A tactically minded soul would probably draw battle lines from the alignments of the Hit Squad, but that would be foolish as there was no chance this would end in a fight, and only slight possibility of a shouting match.

Millicent hadn't been witness to Indigo's bout of hysteria but it had, if not entirely defused the situation, at least stolen the batteries. But Susan remained a distinctly unhappy presence with Hazel and Julian's troubled eyes, Deans quiet horror and the Twin's –sans their third and clearly miserable about it- strange but distinct morality in support of her new distance.

Hannah, Hermione, Jackie and Neville were wavering between camps as, it seemed, was she.

The rest of the Hit Squad seemed to be firmly in the 'how do we support/help Indigo, considering that he is Indigo and doesn't accept help well' camp. Tracy's presence had been a surprise and Flare was perhaps less alarmed that one might expect, but then both of them had known the blond for most of their lives. The loyalty of Harry, Miranda and Yuki had never been in any doubt. Ron had been the real shock, but had stated that child abuse was 'freaking evil' and any lingering issues had been soothed by the fact that the victims had not been left behind.

Millicent did not claim to fully understand her boyfriends mind, and would probably be very bored by him if she could, but this hinted at darker spaces in his mind and there was a hint of steely resolve that she found oddly soothing. It implied that he could be stable, when it was important, and she could lean on him if she needed to. Which she didn't, but it was nice to know the possibility was there.

So even number and some neutrals, most of which would join the 'Hug the Empath' crew if push came to shove. It could be a very one-sided argument, only Indigo seemed to be more fully on Susan's side than that which was nominally his own.

Thank all the gods that the Munchkins were staying out of it.

"This is why you need weapons of your own Indigo, if you had just hacked lumps off them no-one would have cared that much."

A slow blink, and a faint, crocked smirk.

"Do you think I could pull off scimitars?"

"I've always taken you for a shot them in the head sort, personally. A neat, distance death, but if you must get up close and personal…"

"It sounds so insulting when you say it like that."

"There is a reason you made me an axe Indigo."

"And what, pray tell, would that be?"

A spark of his normal snark, of life was back.

"Well, obviously I am secretly a berserker. Or had you forgotten?"

"No, I just like how you phrase it. Obviously secretly indeed, your tutors must be turning in their graves."

Oh don't be absurd Malfoy. Bricking them up in the cellar was a dreadful bore, I'm not getting them out just so they can have graves."

"My apologises Miss Bulstrode, they are spinning in the dust of their own withered corpses."

Hazel squeaked.

"They're joking, Hazel." Harry didn't even look up from his book.

"Of course we are, there are caves in the cove that could be blocked off with far less work."

Ron grinned at her, but the rest wore looks of confused unease that were really rather satisfying.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"There is trouble among your pack."

Hannah offered an innocently inquiring look that fell just shot of convincing as she buttoned her cuff, and if made Malificent smile slightly.

"I am not the only one who has noticed, Professor Moody is paying you rather more attention than normal."

"An auror of his skill has to notice everything, professor."

Malificent was politely disdainful of hearing this comment aimed at someone who always smelt of polyjuice potion.

"And McGonagall is running interference."

At last Hannah looked honestly surprised.

"How very kind." The door creaked open as the first of her detention students wandered in. "Thank you so much professor, I understand so much better now."

She skipped past the youths disbelieving eyes. Malificent gave the group a dark look.

"Have none of you heard of knocking?"

Xxxxxxxxx

"The bodies have been found. The muggles are alarmed and looking for your houseguests, by the Ministry has ruled it a case of accidental magic gone badly amiss which apparently isn't that uncommon. The child responsible is assumed to have been consumed by the magic."

She took the slow blink for what it was and leaned on the railing beside him and peered interestedly at the bamboo slat scroll he held.

It was written in some variant of Asian characters, thus foiling her attempt to snoop.

"You are close to your aunt."

"And I do not care to lie to her."

"That would explain it." He was still to pale, with shadows about his eyes. "What is your opinion on the matter?"

"They deserved to die, but you and your friend probably didn't deserve to kill them like that."

"No doubts as to the reasoning?"

"No doubts about the lack of reasoning." She arched an eyebrow at his faint smile. "Or would you like to claim you were thinking at the time? No, I have a high regard for your intelligence Indigo, if you were going to commit dreadful murders without an extremely good reason you would at least have the sense not to tell us about it."

None of the passing 5th years batted an eye at the pronouncement, which would have been disturbing if had Susan not been using a rather useful little spell invented by a muggleborn auror, who had promptly been stolen by the Unspeakables. A shame, by all accounts Annabell Powell had been a little mad but extremely good at her job and her 'these are not the droids' spell was a master piece, abet a ridiculous one.

There was no better way of ensuring people simply didn't notice you, or anything you said while you were under it.

"I am honoured by your respect for my wits."

Ah, sarcasm, he was improving after all.

"As you should be. Now, what is this supposed to be?"

"A copy of a ward set up that is starting to decay. Professor Houton sent it to me over the equinox to see it I can suggest a viable alternative."

"Why not just recast the same ward?"

"Recasting on top of a decaying version tend to end in explosions. Five years ago, sure, but not now."

"Ah, the perils of poor maintenance. What does it do?"

"It prevents people lying."

Susan considered this turn of phrase.

"But it doesn't make people tell the truth?"

"Certainly not, it's used in political negotiations for millennia. Nothing would ever have gotten done if they all had to be honest."

Xxxxxxxxx

_You don't, but people tend to forgive you if you look depressed. _

_Kougaiji_

_P.S Sanskirt isn't working, how about hieroglyphs?_

Xxxxxxxxxx

Albus had notice the tensions among the Hit Squad, the clear grouping he had noted at the last to meals, and he could use that. Disrupting the unity of that pack of rouges was high on his to do list these days, they were simply to destructive to leave be.

And Then Susan Bones walked in, with Indigo Malfoy at her side a look on her face that dare anyone and everyone to make something of it.

There was a moment's pause, then a distinct re-shuffling of positions as Hermione Granger and Dean Thomas shifted closer to Ron Weasley, Hazel Moon quietly followed his companion/defender/boyfriend to join Hannah Abbot and Flare Zabini, the Weasly Twins got up and went to sit beside Jackie Darkfrost and Neville Longbottom walked to Malfoy, and silently took his hand.

For a moment, Albus thought that the blond might cry.

He had missed his chance, though his absence at these meals, this enforced gatherings, he had not seen the fracture until it began to heal.

Damn it all.

Xxxxxxxx

_Pictograms? Really? And hieroglyphs at that. I'm ashamed of you. If you are going to go that road, at least do it properly. Ancient Mayan or bust!_

_Indigo_

_P.S Why not just warded another room?_

* * *

><p>Next time, i hope: The Curious Case of Bartemius Crouch (es)<p> 


	16. Chapter 16

Authors Note: I have a full time job now, so updates might get more random. Or they might get faster, since I wrote most of this in the last week and a half. We'll see.

Other Note: So, the dark chapters don't get reviewed? How many readers did I lose with that?

lordamnesia: Even I'm not sure where that came from, but somehow writters block became lost muggleborns and chemical death. -shurgs- Beats me man.

Firehedgehog: More will come, though not right now.

unkNOWncat: keep up the praying, I think it might have a delayed effect.

* * *

><p><span>The Curious Case of Bartemius Crouch(es)<span>

Fred leaned on Jackie, who in turn leaned on George, who was getting lumps driven into his back by the uneven stone wall but took it gracefully. All three of them were frowning slightly at the Marauders Map.

They had offered it to Harry, once Sirius and Remus had shared their nicknames, but it had been declined on the grounds that they had the marauders spirit, if not the bloodline, and were better suited to carry on their legacy. Thus, it remained in pranksters hands and Harry got borrowing rights.

Apparently one Bartemius Crouch was in fake-Moodys office, and had been for the last ten minutes. They considered this to be rather strange for a number of reasons.

"He can't be actual fake-Moody. Fake-Moody has a sense of humour." George tapped a finger on his twins elbow. "Even Percy says Crouch doesn't have a sense of humour."

"Maybe there are two of them? The one with a sense of humour takes the lessons and Crouch comes in over night to do the marking and roam the halls. Looking for reasons to give the Ministry more influence at Hogwarts." Jackie frowned a bit harder. "I don't think long term Polyjuice use makes you ill, but it probably isn't very comfortable."

"So, he'd sleep during the day. Hence the letters to Percy, who he knows is good at organisational what-nots. But why him though? He's supposed to be important." Fred's brow crinkled in confusion. "Hell, he's supposed to be in charge of this thing. Isn't there someone better qualified for this?"

"Sure, but they have to do the daytime stuff where someone might actually notice that Moody isn't Moody. Maybe Bones wouldn't give them more than one person?"

"The ministry are mostly interested in us…"

"Well, mostly in Harry, Yuki, Neville, Tracy, Indigo and Miranda really."

"Yes, thank you George. My point is we are Susan's friends. And Amelia Bones doesn't seem to actively disapprove of us and probably wouldn't like her niece being investigated even if she did. She is also very clever, so wouldn't she find a way to warn us about a spy?"

"Fudge could have demanded an oath."

"Fudge is an idiot, and there are ways around magical oaths if you word them right."

The twins paused, looked at each other and leaned back to give Jackie identically alarmed looks. He rolled his eyes at them.

"Grew up with Slytherins boys, I learned. And language is fluid and flexible and ever changing. Do you know what decimate means?"

"Er, reduce to one tenth of the original, right?"

"Wrong, it means to reduce by one tenth. People use it wrong because it sounds menacing. You get that one into an oath and someone is getting an unpleasant surprise."

"So, it isn't the ministry?"

"It might be the ministry, but Amelia Bones doesn't know about it and their supply of people trained to go under cover is very limited."

Fred scowled, George sighed and glanced around.

Stone walls, a jumble of fallen stone on one side and the back of the mirror on the other.

"Didn't we come here to make out? I'm sure we came here to make out."

"There there. The floor would have been uncomfortable anyway."

The trio left, headed towards HQ, bumped into McGonagall and promptly got detentions.

Apparently there was a curfew.

Xxxxxxxx

_Percy, have you seen your boss at all since Hogwarts started?_

_Nutters_

Xxxxxxxx

The Daily Prophet's office emptied slowly but steadily as the bailiffs methodically removed anything that might fetch a little gold.

Not even the minister's support had been enough to prop the newspaper up as the weight of legal fees, fines and payouts pushed its finances ever farther into the red. With the Chief Editors absence, he was now believed to be somewhere in South America as he tried to escape the slew of people who suddenly wanted to talk to him very much, the once proud newspaper had surrendered to the inevitable. Much to the horror of its shareholders.

The Daily Prophet had closed, the entire workforce was fired and the remaining assets were to be auctioned off to pay at least some of its growing debt.

From across the road two lawyers and a werewolf watched, wide eyed with a strange, proud, almost horror.

"We made this happen." Fitzhenry couldn't seem to decide is this scared her or not. "We are responsible for this downfall."

A howler exploded against the layered shield they had put up for just this reason, and a few bystanders flinched as it shrieked a death keel. Remus twitched, even with his especially be-spelled ear muffs.

"We couldn't have done it without them." muttered Frockmorton, peering at the items being carried from the building. "Is that a chocolate fountain?"

"Yes." stated Remus, who could recognise chocolate under any circumstances. "Honeydukes finest, by the smell of it, one of the more recent batches of chocolate."

"No wonder they never bothered to actually investigate anything." She mused, absently silencio-ing another howler. "My uncle had one at his 6th wedding, they are fantastic."

"His 6th?"

"He specialises in divorces."

"Ah." Frockmorton's tone implied that he understood entirely.

The fountain was loaded onto the platform with the other luxury oddities and teleported to the auction house.

"Just how did this happen so fast? Slander cases-"

"Don't normally call for veritaserum. It's like we hit critical mass and the whole thing exploded in their faces." Fitzhenry sighed, glancing away and settling on Remus. "Are you alright Mr Lupin?"

"This is precisely what I was aiming for. I have achieved my goals and no-one even remotely sane will ever dare to slander Harry, Sirius or I for as long as we live. Or accuse us of anything at all, including things we've done."

"That is a fair assessment."

"I don't think I really expected to get everything I wanted."

"Most sane people don't." Frockmorton rolled his shoulders, and pulled a face when the joints cracked at him. "Do either of you fell a strange urge to get very, very drunk?"

Fitzhenry silently reached into her purse and pulled out a large bottle of expensive muggle whisky.

He made a quizzical noise.

"It's bigger on the inside, and charmed weightless."

"That's nice. Glasses?"

"Don't be a pansy Edward."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Neville twirled the glaive slowly, adjusting to the weight of its blade, his own changed form and the weapons balance which was similar but different to his last weapon. It would extend as his nyoi bo had, but he still had to get into shape before he could use it properly. This human body was frail, but running, weights and regular sparring would do something about that.

It was a beautiful weapon. The blade 18 inches long and retractable at a twist of a section of the shaft, a shoe of engraved steel on the butt and a sealable slot for his wand. He could channel spells through it, he had checked.

It was a beautiful weapon and he had beamed when Indigo presented it to him those weeks ago, and had only laughed when she brushed of his questions about her state. Because she was only a little bit high, and hadn't slurred her words when she said it and he could feel the _satisfactionyesalmost _in her mind clearer than he had felt anything since Bellatrix had fled Hogwarts.

He hadn't felt anything at all since the rehab thing.

"You know how to use that don't you?"

Neville slowed and stopped, facing Fake-Moody. He almost liked the spy, for all of his sneaky ways. He was a good, practical teacher and he listened like Harry and Julian did. And he had liked enemies who were defiantly enemies before, so liking a maybe enemy wasn't a stretch. But he made Harry twitchy, so…

"Not really professor. I'm not used to bladed weapons."

"Yer learning though, and quickly to despite the different balance." His flesh eye focused on the glaive, the other revolving to see all of the secluded courtyard they stood in. "May I?"

Neville clutched it instinctively, and made himself stop.

"Um, best not. Indigo set it to me somehow, and it kinda spikes anyone else who touches it."

"Ha! Good. You'd do better to hold onto your weapon, but it's good that your enemies can't turn it against you. Keep practicing and remember-"

"CONSTANT VIGILENCE!"

Fake-Moody almost smiled when Neville spoke with him and stomped away, loud on his wooden leg.

But Harry didn't like him.

And he hadn't been so distracted as to miss the sounds of wood on stone without something helping him along.

Xxxxxxxx

"You have divination when-"

"-we're in DADA don't you?"

Dean eyed the Nutters, who looked unusually serious for them, and cautiously indicated that this was indeed the case.

They didn't grin, so this wasn't a prank and might be important.

"Then we need you to take the map, and when we're in class you check it and see whose there that shouldn't be." Jackie was frowning slightly. "We'll hand it over at lunch."

"I'll need a list of people who should be there."

Fred presented him with one.

"Wrote it our earlier. Don't take the map anywhere near Mad Eye."

"Yes, of course-"

"And don't mention it around the paintings." George waved a hand at the conveniently empty walls around them. "Some of them spy for the teachers."

"Alright. I'll be careful."

They grinned and ran off, probably to avoid a detention.

Dean looked down at his drawing, now ruined by a smudge of charcoal, and wondered why they hadn't thought of this months ago.

The tournament nonsense. Had to be.

Xxxxxxx

"Hello Laura, Matt."

The duo hesitated in the doorway for a moment before they shuffled into the room, not quite failing to hunch against a blow that wasn't coming.

"Er, hi Liz. You got time?"

"Language."

"Errrm, do you have a minute?"

Liz paused for a moment, considering this offering.

"Good enough. Pick a chair, any chair."

Matt actually cracked a smile, but he stayed stuck firmly to his protectors' side as she settled onto the loveseat. Hard to believe that he was actually a year older than her, but Laura had the steel that he lacked.

After all, he had been under Ed's protection, before he ran. He hadn't needed to be as strong as her.

"What's on your mind?"

Blue eyes and eerie focus. She would be a disconcerting beauty one day.

"Are we safe here Liz?"

"Well, we are certainly safer than we were before. Why?"

"There are locked doors."

And doors tended not to stay locked around these two, though which of them was working that magic was anyone's guess.

"Narcissa would tell you what is behind them if you asked her." They had all learned not to ask for things, and un-learning was always difficult. "The doors are locked because the things behind them are likely two explode or curse people if interfered with. Daniel and the fey also stay out of them."

"You know that?"

And there was the crux of the matter.

"Yes, I know that. Was there anything else?"

Laura frowned, but Matt touched her wrist lightly. He wanted a word, apparently, and he still preferred not to speak around anyone but her. No-one made him anymore, so they left.

"I thought that Matt would notice you, at least. He watches things."

Liale detached herself from the shadow of the curtain, prowled over and placed two small vials of blood on the table.

"I think tree thoughts. Where did I get these?"

Liz frowned at this non-answer, and then at the vials as she cast out her awareness and fought to ignore the woods hydrocarbons, the glasses silica and the many gases that moved around them.

"That is badger blood, male, you collected the blood straight from the wound, but several days ago."

"They kill geese you know, dogs to and they are not afraid of people. Worse than foxes really."

"I'll take your word for it. That is yours, and it isn't just blood. I thought your clan destroyed menstrual fluid? A dream of children or something?"

"What better way to curse a parent? Make it safe, don't break the glass."

A test and a challenge and a lesson all in one.

The glass was smooth and cool. She slipped through to the _waterproteinlipidsironhydrocarbonDNAsalt_ within. The resulting fluid was gloopy and slightly yellow-ish.

Liale left, leaving the vials behind.

Liz coiled her magic around the egg, the frail half child suspended in chemical sludge, the once blood that would unmake it without her intervention. A child in potential, and there was magic there, lots of magic, half a million possibilities.

It unravelled under a thought.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

_Nothing, yet. Can't tell you, people are reading our mail._

_Nutters_

Xxxxxxx

Dean was frowning as he left divination, which wasn't exactly strange because Trelawneys incense gave everyone headaches anyway. But this was a frownier frown than normal, so Ron bumped him with his shoulder once they were safely away from the ladder.

"'sup man?"

"Bartemius Crouch."

"Pretty sure he's down from here. Wherever he is."

Dean pointed down and left a bit, and kept frowning. Ron started frowning as well, because why would Crouch be here today?

"I saw him on the map. Teaching DADA."

They met the Slytherins outside Transfiguration and ignoring Parkinson, Nott and the non-trolls, trotted over to their fellow Hit Squaders.

"What does Not-Moody feel like to you?"

"3D dream catcher with uncertain knots." Indigo didn't look up from his book at the murmured question. "Mirror shards and dying roses. And strength, perfect regiments of mind soldiers."

"Huh. And Crouch?"

"Clear sweet wrappers being twisted beside your ears and fallen leaves as they start to rot. Clear ice, like half frozen puddles that someone had stepped in." He lowered the book as Hermione arrived. "Tangled silk and filing cabinets."

Ron blinked a few times. That was oddly poetic, and really oddly forthcoming.

"That's kind of a weird combination."

"Most people are like that. McGonagall is all feather cushions and iron bars. Goyle has mud and diamonds in unexpected proportions."

The before mentioned professor motioned them into her classroom and they sat obediently because she was really very hard to ignore even when you wanted to, and only stupid people tried to ignore McGonagall.

Millicent let him sit beside her and moved slightly into his hand on her wrist in a way that he probably thought meant more than it actually did.

"Are tangles like bad knots?"

She gave him a look that was two steps up from her normal 'you are absurd but I like you' and moving into 'really Ronald' territory.

"Only superficially. Pay attention."

Xxxxxx

"It could be a time turner, couldn't it?"

The HQ was full, the entire Hit Squad, plus Miranda, present in a way that no-one had noticed becoming uncommon.

Hazel was worried, but also saying what most of them were thinking.

"Flowers and leaves rot in a similar way, mirrors and ice are both reflective and break the same, tangles become knots and filing and armies rely heavily on organisation. And time turners mess with your head, don't they? Maybe that causes mental static."

"That was very plausible. And wrong, but plausible."

Indigo was reading a 6th years charms book and only surfaced to be rude. No-one asked where he had gotten the book, despite the name, definitely not his, that was written on its cover.

"Can you explain your reasoning?" Susan was being very patient. That was probably a bad sign.

"Ice and mirrors are different things and the roses aren't rotting."

"To your knowledge. Time turners do make you strange." The face Hermione pulled said a lot about her own experience with time travel.

"But not immediately." Tracy didn't hesitate to naysay Hermione, and the calm way Hermione took it said good things about their relationship. "It takes frequent use over at least several weeks to make a significant difference, and I don't think that Fake Moody's core is damaged enough for that."

"But it is damaged?" Julian drew Hazel back down beside him.

"Yes. I suspect that prolonged use of polyjuice may be magically unhealthy."

"The potion is meant for short term use, and some of the ingredients would linger in potential damaging ways." Harry was frowning into space. "Testing Fake-Moody's blood could be, interesting."

"Could that cause static?" Flare was thinking about it.

The majority felt that it might well.

"They are different people."

The minority was not impressed.

"The map-"

"-disagrees."

"The map gives a name and names can be changed or shared. How many Potters do you think there are in Britain? Or Abbots? I very much doubt that there is only one Crouch family in London, let alone the rest of the country, and Barty Crouch might be the most prominent member but I bet he has cousins." Miranda scowled. "He's pureblood with enough connections to lead in the ministry, he must have."

Most of the room turned and looked expectantly at Susan.

"Maybe. His son was Barty Crouch Junior and died in Azkaban but I can't remember the rest."

"Your haven't memorised the genealogy's? Shocking!"

"I'm a Bones, Jackie, I have bigger and more murderous fish to fry. And politicians to explain it to afterwards."

He nodded seriously, and couldn't quite hide his smile.

"You are sure that they aren't the same person?" Hannah sounded apologetic. "They sound, similar, and since Dean never got a good look at Mr Crouch…"

"I'm sure, I'm sure it's…" He waved a hand, scowled into air. "Yuki feels a lot like Miranda. Harry and Severus think alike and they both feel like Remus sometimes. Sirius and Ma-ji have the same crossed wires. You and Neville are on the same frequency. Fred is more like his father than is obvious and Percy has more in common with his mother than either of them would like to admit. Flare resembles my mother and she is basically Bellatrix if you could have any version of Bellatrix who was entirely devoid of sadism. Jackie resembles the Twins, and the Twins are as near to being the same person as anyone with separate minds can get and I can still tell the difference. Barty Crouches one and two are very different people, the similarities are at the core of them but everything built on that base is different."

It was probably the most any of them had ever heard him say in one go, and Miranda leaned into her brother, toying with his signet ring, offering comfort to some unseen hurt.

"Empathy sounds really confusing."

Neville won a melancholy smile.

"Explain chocolate to someone with no sense of taste, or green to someone born blind. You have to know them before can understand the concept. The language isn't…" He sighed, bent his head as Miranda started to braid their hair together. "It's based in comparisons that we have to know to get any more information out of it. And there is nothing like how people think or what a, a soul feels like. The words don't exist."

Normal people might have shuffled uncomfortably or asked questions with answers they wouldn't understand. Fortunately the Hit Squad were not normal, or even the moderately odd that passed for it in most people.

"Not the same person then, but they might have had prolonged exposure to one another?"

Susan didn't sound like she needed an answer, but Indigo nodded anyway.

"Oh sweet merciful daeva's, don't tell me we have to research everyone Crouch has worked with for more than a few years? The ministry's records are notoriously dire."

Jackie Laid a faux-comforting hand on Yuki's arm.

"Not just that, we're going to have to read genealogy's as well."

"…Why can't we just kill them again?"

"Dementors exist."

"Oh yes. That."

Xxxxxxxxx

"Why are people reading your mail? And more to the point why haven't you tracked them down and made them stop it?"#Dean blinked at the suit clad redhead, who was doing paperwork, or parchment-work perhaps, in the HQ before he remembered that Percy had reverted to male form over a month ago.

And then he blinked a few more times, because where did that come from?

"No-one is reading my mail. None of the people I write to regularly have magic or political influence. My mail is dismissed in a way I could chose to be offended by. No robes?"

"My co-workers asked me to stick to trousers for a while." He finally looked up from the documents and peered at the younger man. "Are my brothers about? The twins mentioned people reading their mail."

"The Twins are at Quidditch practice, a bunch of the normal players have formed mock teams, and Ron wandered off after Millicent. Also, we aren't completely certain that people are reading the Twins mail, there's only evidence of interference for Susan and Harry's. Do you remember why inanimate to animate transfigurations are so difficult? There's an essay that giving me grief."

"Because that sort of spell has to have an animating spell in the incantation and even a slight mispronunciation will disrupt the flow of magic in potential ghastly ways. Fortunately the spells just fail most of the time."

"Um…"

"I ended up with a box that was half a rat, and both ends tried to bite people until the rat part died."

Dean could envision this with an ease that was almost, if not quite, as disturbing as the image itself.

"McGonagall really does scare me."

"As she should. How did they get passed Hedwig anyway? She's…" He waved a hand. Trying to conjure the words for the mostly amiable if pushy snowy owl, who turned into a churning mass of rage and talons if anyone save Harry or the intended recipient tried to touch and letter in her keeping. "…Hedwig."

"We're not sure, but sometimes she comes back with blood on her feathers."

"Ah. You won't get anywhere by taking this to the ministry. Last year made you all persona non grata, but they are livid after what Remus did to the Prophet. Half the department heads are craving blood, Madame Bones has warded off most of them."

Dean gazed at him interestedly, willing himself to see the colours and struggling, as ever, to match what he saw to what he thought he knew. The tone had hit his 'sneaky badass' radar.

Penelope was working at a respectable potions brewing group and a brewer and junior manager, reflecting that she had passed even Snapes exams with flying colours and a collection of note books so perfectly organised and extensively cross referenced that Hermione had asked for pointers. Oliver had been signed to a good Quidditch team and his skill and good looks had gained him good income which, since they have been given their house outright, left the trio with significant disposable income for any more, interesting purchases. Percy was theoretically a very minor ministry official, but as the personal assistant of an absentee department head he spent an awful lot of time with some rather important people and had amply opportunity to find, opportunities.

And that was an interesting thought.

"It might well be someone in the ministry doing it, we certainly ticked Fudge off and someone close to him must be bright enough to consider it. We have been lucky in our allies though."

He wouldn't ask, Plausible deniability and all.

"Mm. Where is all this interest in my boss coming from then?"

"The marauders map says that someone called Bartemius Crouch is teaching DADA, disguised as Mad Eye Moody. Indigo insists that it is not actually your boss using a time turner as well as polyjuice, but agrees that they probably know each other pretty well."

"He had a son who died in Azkaban around the same time that Mrs Crouch passed away. But the Crouches aren't a big family and Mr Crouch is, or rather was, the last heir in Britain. It could be a distant relative courting the inheritance though, my boss defiantly isn't poor. What about the real Moody? They'd need him for the hair."

"We don't know. He must be stashed somewhere nearby but if he is in Hogwarts somebody worked out how to hide him from the map."

Silence settled as Percy returned to his papers and Dean arranged his notes around him and carefully began his essay.

The Huffelpuffs, plus Hazel, wandered in half an hour later.

"Hiya Percy!"

"It is so good to see you again."

"Hello Neville, Hannah. You are well I hope? Apart from this fake teacher and the purloined mail?"

Neville shuffled uncomfortably.

"We didn't want to give Fudge a reason to target you." Susan was being firm, and sounded a bit like Madame Pomfrey. "You are a known associate of ours and you don't have my aunts power to protect yourself with. This could cost you your job you know."

"A brief word at the Yule Ball would not have gone amiss. You truly have no subjects."

"We've been busy."

"So I gather." Percy subjected Julian to a deeply disapproving look. "But Harry can handle himself, as he has amply demonstrated. If we can secure the original Moody then the whole thing falls apart without any need to attack the imposter."

"That is my preferred solution Percy, but veteran aurors are rather good at staying hidden you know." Susan did not appreciate that tone at all. "Can you get a list of people Crouch worked with on a long term basis? We need to look into the possibility of one of them changing their name."

"I can, but Arabella will have to give it to Snape to pass onto you, given the state of the mail."

"Aren't the ministry's records supposed to be dire?"

Percy raised an eyebrow at Hazel.

"I am good at this you know."

Xxxxxxx

The Slytherins DADA lessons were never particularly comfortable, mostly because they tended to worry the teacher nervous.

This time the teacher made them nervous, and that was almost worse. There was something deeply depressing about the way Crabble slowly began to panic under that rolling eye, and Evelyn Vale was sinking ever deeper into her normal corner in a way that probably meant that she was planning to kill them all.

She had been voted 'Most Likely To Become An Assassin' every year since they had arrived at Hogwarts, having won the title from a 6th year boy who smiled all the time. Flare made a point of chatting to her at least once a week, either as insurance against future hits or because his 'do not engage' sensors were broken.

Fortunately it was almost over for another day.

"…and I want a list of counters for at least twelve common duelling curses, including how to perform them. Questions?"

Millicent, who did most of the talking as Moody hadn't arrested anyone she was related to –other aurors had caught her grandfather- raised her hand.

"Can you suggest any good books on resisting mood altering or mind control spells."

"There was a long moment of stony silence, both of Moody's eyes focusing on Millicent in a way that would have made her shake had she been made of slightly less stern stuff.

As it was, she just looked blankly back.

"…Start with Sawkins _Symptoms of Bewitchment _and then read Ziades _Changing Minds. _And practice your occlumency."

"Thank you sir."

He kicked them out early.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"He tried to escape last week, almost made it to the tree line."

Barty twitched slightly at Josaphine's words, narrowing his eyes at his father's forms, flopped near lifelessly in a chair.

"I told you he'd fight it. Will like an iron bar."

"And the mind to match it, but that is breaking now. He is crumbling."

"Bella has already broken, it doesn't make her any less dangerous."

She nodded wryly, watching the son stare at his senseless father.

"You must resemble your mother very much, you look nothing like him."

"He locked all the photos of her away after she died."

Not that Barty had been in a state to hate him for it at the time. The dementors had left him wide open to the imperius curse, which daddy dearest had been so very good at, and Winky had dosed him with calming potions often at the beginning, trying to silence the night terrors.

He hadn't killed her for it, or even dismissed her. The potions had probably done more good than harm at that point, and such freedoms he had been granted had come at her request. He just didn't eat anything thing she had cooked.

"What a remarkably vindictive little man. He won't get away." Her eyes were kind, her tone soothing. "Rodolfus may be mad, but he is thorough and obedient. He will hold the wardline."

"I know."

"Then what troubles you?"

"The Bones girl is part of a group called the Hit Squad. Some of them attacked you last summer."

"You like them, don't you." She smiled slightly as he jumped. "It's alright. I quite like them as well. They are clever and vicious and they work well together, I respect that. Bella is particularly fond of the Longbottom boy, oddly enough."

Barty reminded himself, once again, that he was not responsible for things the Lestranges had done while he was looking for Madame Longbottom in an entirely different house.

"He is a generally kind boy who will seriously hurt anyone who threatens him or those he counts as his own."

"Most respectable."

"Malfoy made him a glaive, and a scythe for Potter than enhances his talents with water magic."

There was a long moment of silence.

"Our lord seems to be amused by Potter, and if this Malfoy is anything like his father he will try to keep his options open. But our lord speaks almost, fondly of him. There has been a great change I think."

The dark mark didn't hurt anymore, failures were not so harshly punished and questions were not punished at all. Riding around in Pettigrews body couldn't be responsible for all of it.

"I tested Potter with the imperius curse. He tried to kill me." He smiled at her shocked approval. "The Bulstrode girl asked me for books on resisting mind control. I believe at least a third of them would shake an imperio from you or I, and more would resist heavily or react violently. Yes, I like them."

"…You will have to return to Hogwarts soon, and our lord wants a report before you go. Come."

They left Bartemius Crouch Senior dribbling on himself.

* * *

><p>Next chapter: The Third Task<p> 


	17. Chapter 17

firehedgehog: Cheers

The Reader of Words: Its what I do man! And the actual psyco and the semi-psycos have a lot of respect for each other.

lordamnesia: They'd have epic murder bromance if they weren't trying to kill each other. And might have one regardless.

Storm Howler: Do you have to give me plot bunnies? I have enough of my own.

Authors Note: Some chapters take ages to write, and some get knocked out in a few days of late night typing when you have work the next day because they refuse no to be written. This is the last sort.

* * *

><p><span>The Third Task<span>

Victor Krum would like to state, for the record, that he was not in love with Susan Bones. He liked her, he respected her and he trusted her, but he was not in love.

For one, he felt no lust for her what so ever because whatever her mental age might be Susan was still awkwardly growing into her skin. For another he was not entirely over his –also non-sexual- crush on Hermione. Which was a shame because he was sure that Tracy and Hermione would be wonderful friends if he could just silence the little voice in his head that resented their loving and happy relationship.

So, no, he was not in love.

But that was not necessarily a bad way to start a relationship.

In wholly practical teams it would be a good match. She was the heir to a prominent and respected pureblood family. He was the third, half blooded, magically raised child of and equally prominent and wealthier mostly pureblood family. They both had, or would have, modest fortunes. The course of his career was set but could easily be moved to England. She promised to be brilliant at whatever she put her mind to and had already cultivated enough connections in her home country to take her anywhere she wanted to go. Their marriage would benefit both, giving him respectability and her fame.

Personally he liked trusted and respected her and knew that she enjoyed his company, listened to his opinions, argued fairly and, if from loyalty or affection, guarded his back.

Good marriages had been built on less, and bad ones on far, far more.

In Bulgaria an invitation to meet you parents and get to know them indicated a wish to open a formal, honourable courtship with the intention of allegiance between your families, hopefully secured by a marriage in due time. Given the glimpse of pure shock that had crossed Susan's face when he invited her to meet his mother at the Yule Ball it carried a different weight in Britain.

But he couldn't find out what that was, and dared not make a second invitation in ignorance.

Not a single book on the culture of the country. Finest school of magic his arse.

"Do you realise that you said that out loud?"

He jumped, and relaxed slightly on recognising the girl. Susan had introduced him to Yuki Greengrass, whose real name he couldn't quite recall but didn't suit her. She had sworn to castrate him if he hurt her friend and thus held his good opinion, and saying as much seemed to have won him hers.

"'Vell, I do now." He closed the book. "Your Madame Price vould not approve?"

"Madame Price would prefer that no-one use the library at all. Why are you reading etiquette books? Your father is pureblood, you already know etiquette."

How could it hurt to tell her? What harm was there in simply asking for the answer?

"I fear I haf given insult by accident. Vhat does it mean, in your culture, to ask someone to meet your parents?"

"Well, in people of our age, blood status and level in society it would indicate that you want to have a betrothal contract arranged between yourself and whoever you asked. From anyone under eleven it means nothing and is rather rude from anyone who is already married or betrothed. Think of it a really unromantic proposal."

He winced. She raised an eyebrow.

"You asked Susan didn't you."

"Yes…"

"What did she say?"

"Nothing. It vas at the Yule Ball, just before the gassing. There is nothing there that explains what I did wrong!"

"Hush, don't draw her attention. No, somehow all the books that explained the oddities of our culture have mysteriously left Hogwarts, started sometime in the sixties according to my mother. She's still talking to you, so all is not lost. What does it mean in Bulgaria?"

"A wish to begin courtship. We meet each other's parents and the head of the family and if ve are all considered sane and suitable than there is courtship, and our families probably vork out an alliance vhile that is going on, and at the end, if ve are still courting and amendable there is a marriage to make certain. Or not, if otherwise."

"Well that is much less offensive. How long does all this take?"

"Five to ten years is normal."

"Are you willing to more to England permanently?"

"I think your country will be very nice once you have graduated and made holes in it. And we have magic, home is not so very far avay."

"Neither of you are in love." There was no trace of question in her tone.

"Hence the courtship."

She nodded slowly, one polished nail tapping on the varnished wood.

"Had you invited her to meet the head of your family she would have understood the implications of alliance, but we don't have this tradition of courtship. You are either betrothed at an early age, choose your own spouse or try to manipulate the situation to a reasonable outcome. Depends how old fashioned your family is. I like your way better." Another sharp tap. "I will explain to Susan. You'll apologise and she will as well because she's reasonable like that. Then perhaps we can arrange for you to meet her aunt before you return home."

"…Vhy vould such a busy woman as Amelia Bones visit a school?"

"Ask me know questions and you won't have to lie about it later. If I may make a suggestion about, apology presents…?"

"I vas, was, thinking of giving Susan a book on Bulgarian customs. Perhaps she could suggest one on English ones?"

"You do tact as well? Had I but volunteered… My father would probably have had you killed. Alas."

She walked briskly away, her glorious golden curls bouncing with each step, and Victor was glad that she had not volunteered. For all her beauty Yuki was decidedly unnerving, and even if he had been brave enough to consider courting her he very much doubted that he could ever win the depth of affection she showed to her non-sister or not-brothers. Susan's chosen kin were less complex.

But still, he was a little afraid of asking for Hannah's blessing. She was almost too nice, and might kill him in his sleep.

Xxxxxxxx

"Good evening Cedric."

He manfully didn't flinch at the voice, largely because Hannah had repeatedly assured him that Harry didn't actually want to hurt him. And Susan had pointed out that Harry didn't care enough about him to want to hurt him which was brutal enough to seem true.

"Good evening." He paused, waiting for the younger boy to catch up and fell into step with Potters shorter stride. "I assume you were summoned to the pitch as well?"

"As we all were. I take it that Neville has told you about the hedges he assisted Professor Sprout with."

"Hufflepuff loyalty is a beautiful thing. I would guess a maze."

"Fleur agrees with you on that, though I think we all know it could not be a simple garden maze."

"It would be a letdown after dragons and mermaids."

Cedric glanced at the fourth year, saw the twist of a wry smile and almost, almost asked the question that had been lingering behind his teeth since the second task. Because he had though Harry was better than to leave a friend under a lake, even if Susan had another rescuer coming after her.

But then he saw the quidditch pitch and let the words fall again as he stomped over to Bagman.

If this did not get fixed heads would roll.

Xxxxxxxxx

So a maze and an obstacle course all rolled into one, with some of Hagrids idea of suitable beasties dotted throughout and whatever spells were deemed non-lethally threatening enough to be thrown at them. Given that few wizards had realised the potential dangers of even wingardium leviosa and that Hagrid was responsible for the existence of Blast Ended Skrewts…

"This could either be a lot of fun or get us all killed."

Bagman didn't seem pleased by this assessment, but Fleur smirked.

"Just another day at Hogwarts then."

Cedric hid a smile and Victor muttered something under his breath that probably meant something along the lines of 'crazy British people' which was a fair assessment really.

"…Well if there are no other questions let's get back to the castle…"

Bagman led the way, but Victor tapped Harry lightly on the shoulder and they left the group.

"You know of my, request of Susan?"

"I am aware, yes."

"Und you approve?"

Harry paused at the thickening of the accent; Victors English had improved rapidly over the months, but slipped slightly when he was worried or angry.

"I have no reason to object, and since Susan has agreed and Hannah and Yuki have given their approval there is really nothing I could do even if I did take issue. I hear that Madame Bones it trying to arrange some time off over the summer to meet your family." The quidditch star noticeably brightened and straightened from his habitual stoop. "Victor, did you actually think I was competition?"

Victor slumped again, and they really must try to break that habit.

"You are friends and a better match in many vays. She speaks of you often and I have seen little of Indigo in your presence, despite how Fleur speaks of you, so…"

"Indigo is having a bad year, and he has never been good at explaining himself or accepting help, no matter how freely offered. But I have been a little in love with him since…" tears fell unheeded as a poisoned prince explained the mess they were in, a god prince read a melancholy mortal poem to a room he though empty, a priest sang a prayer for him over the grave of his sister and his thousand victims "…he rolled out of a fireplace and accidentally got my cousin eaten by a giant marshmallow. It isn't going anywhere."

The face Victor pulled was positively hilarious.

"Good evening."

The misty tone was as familiar as it was unexpected.

"Good evening Luna, you're out later than normal."

"I was watching something fail to happen."

Victors face seemed to have gotten stuck that way.

"Do you approve of this?"

"I am uncertain. Your wrackspurt infestation has cleared up."

"Zhat is, good to hear?"

Despite his clear confusion and discomfort Victor saw them back to the castle and bid them a polite farewell at the door.

"He's such a nice boy."

The look she gave him was shockingly sad.

"You are going to be hurt, very deeply. But one way or another it will end, and it will hurt him as much if not more."

She would say no more.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Amelia Bones believed firmly in training and was, in the name of keeping her people alive, a vicious, demanding, tyrannical slave driver. And she had taught her niece well.

Millicent and Yuki were doing the best, both having a wide repertoire of spell and the magic to back them up, and while their styles were utterly apposed they were equally effective. Hermione would catch up with them once she had the reflexes to back up her learning and tactical flare.

Ron and Neville came in closely behind the girls, both compensating for their relatively minor knowledge of useful spells with dodging, sharp reflexes and imagination. Harry lagged a little behind them, which was not to say that he was weak but his love of brewing showed in slightly slower reactions and an obvious over use of his water manipulation and energy orb things. It was a bit of a pain, considering that these sessions had been for his benefit, before everyone else joined in, but he was working hard to fix the problem now that it had been pointed out to him and that counted for a lot.

The rest lingered in their respective zones, and Susan doubted her ability to shift them, Tracy was exempt due her capacity to break eardrums, but Flare, Dean and Hazel were hindered by a simple lack of killer instinct. Julian and Hannah were tremendous defenders but far too slow to attack and the Nutters might make spectacular and distracting use of prank spells but they veered away from the truly disabling spells and not even their remarkable teamwork could make up for the lack.

She wasn't even going to touch Miranda and Indigo's styles. Someone had worked very hard to teach them wordless casting and they both used it to shatter every official and unofficial rule in the duelers handbook, and most of advice in it as well. And then they made it work which was doubly offensive. Even Susan could only take so much animated furniture and things summoned at the back of her head until she called it a day and sent them the teach the Munchkins their tricks.

Not to mention the knives, she wasn't ready to think about those two and their bloody knives.

"Alright, that enough. Millie, I want you to give Harry and Hermione a hand with the impedimenta jinx. Ron, practice stunners with the Nutters. Shut up Fred, I don't care how much it amuses you, no-one gives a damn about their hair in a fight so behave, you inglorious idiot. Bat Boogy Hex at minimum you are wasting your shots. Yuki, scat, I don't want to see you again until you can use the shield spell properly, you cannot you protégé duo for everything. Julian, you are not leaving this room until you have hexed at least one person. I don't care who anymore, but your are not leaving until you do. Clear?"

Everyone nodded, Julian looking more than slightly embarrassed. Yuki left and Millicent drew her new students into a marginally safer corner.

"Alright, let's try again."

Xxxxxxxx

Dean kept a close eye on Fake Moody over the weeks leading up to the third task, trying to get a better idea of who he was and what he wanted.

He really wished his particular brand of psychic powers had come with a hand book. He couldn't give the meaning of all the colours, despite the best efforts of his friends. The actual emotion always looked different from someone trying very hard to feel the emotion so that he could get a look at it, so all he could say for certain was that Fake Moody was a seething ball of anger who seemed to resent everyone except, oddly enough, them.

And maybe Snape, but he wasn't sure about that. The colours got weird when they stood together, and Snapes colours had always been a bit weird anyway. The two had a similar discolouration around one arm and he'd had some theories about the cause of it, but they hadn't held up to the way that it seemed to be softening, as it had been since the end of 2nd year. Growing stronger, yes, but also softer and more stable.

It worried him.

But Indigo's depressed resignation to, something, and the way that Yuki, Flare and Miranda knew what was up while Tracy and Millicent just suspected something worried him more. Indigo didn't do resignation, depression yes, he had a self destructive streak a mile wide, but not resignation. And normally his siblings would be trying harder to break him out of it.

Compared to all that McGonagalls various shades of up to something where rather soothing.

Xxxxxxxxx

Remus had never before been greeted so respectfully by anyone, let alone by someone as formidable as Augusta Longbottom. It had been quite a shock when she greeted him by name with a polite nod, and a faint smile to boot. Particularly as she still met Sirius, Lord of house Black and generally important person, with no more than a stern look.

"Lovely work on the Prophet, only wish I could have helped."

The newspapers tended to be oddly tactful where the Longbottoms were concerned, the article Neville appeared in an aberration when the loss of Frank, and later Alice in such a way had gained enough public sympathy to ward off most of the vultures and Augusta umbrella had seen to the rest.

"I had all the help I could manage, we had to shrink the paperwork as it was, but I am honoured by your approval. It seemed, past time that something was done about them."

Sirius growled softly about the ministry and bloody head shrinkers, and Remus could hear his wolf grumble its agreement. Harry had, all of the boys had, handled the situation beautifully. But they shouldn't have had to.

"I assume you are here for the third task?"

"Minerva alerted me, yes."

The idea of the two women actually working together was more than slightly terrifying, but fortunately they reached the doors before Sirius could say as much.

Professor McGonagall herself met them there and lead them to a side chamber where relatives of the other champions stood with their young kinsmen.

Amos Diggory gave the glower Remus had expected but the fierce scowls that the entire French contingent gave him in response, Victor Krums dark look and the way Cedric kicked his father on the ankle were, less expected.

Harry had spoken warmly of the foreign champions, the Delacours mentioned as 'Indigo's charming cousins' and Krum referred to, rather oddly, as 'such a nice boy' and it seemed the sentiment was returned. The young Diggory was noted simply as 'a sort of friend of Julian's who Hannah likes' but perhaps he was simply more sensible than his father.

"Lord Black, Consort Lupin." The girl, who was clearly part veela and therefore had to be Fleur, hesitated before bowing to Augusta as well. "Madame. Harry assisted me greatly in the 2nd task, per'aps saving my sisters life and I count myself indebted to 'im. He will hear none of it but I 'ope-"

Her mother laid a hand on Fleurs shoulder, quieting the nervous words, and gave a superbly elegant bow.

"We are indebted to him; please call upon us if you are in need of aid. Any letter with this mark is assured of reaching me."

Remus wasn't sure what was said next or who said it but it must have been appropriate because she departed with another bow, leaving him holding a finely carved seal that he recognised as that of magical France's very important, highly successful diplomatic corps.

Harry entered, smiled warmly at them and then paused to great Lady Delacour. She smiled sweetly and offered her hand. He raised an eyebrow and, with an air of amused tolerance, kissed it.

"Really." Augusta hissed.

"I think I've missed something," Sirius confessed quietly.

"I second that. Hello cub."

Surely even a teenage boy could tolerate public hugging this once? It was a special occasion, and the scent of him, finally mixing with Sirius's and his own again made his wolf sigh and rumble its contentment.

"Hello again."

"'lo prongslet."

They drew back a little, Augusta coming close to touch Harry's hair and gave a worried frown.

"I am well. I intend to stay that way. We can talk in the HQ. You are staying, yes? Neville would be sorry to have missed you."

"Of course we are you silly boy, we have to be on hand to kill Bagman and Dumbledore if you get hurt."

"That is very kind, but you may have to fight Susan for it."

Xxxxxxxx

"_Susan? Your Susan who you want us to meet?"_

Victor shrugged at his fathers doubtful expression.

"_They are friends papa."_

"_Who pick fights with Albus Dumbledore on each other behalf?"_

"Bromance, _papa. Do not mess with the _bromance."

"_I like this girl already."_

He had always been more his mother's son.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Percy had done his best, and his best was very, very good.

A list of everyone who had worked with Crouch for two years or more, with notes on those who had died, married or left the country. An entire genealogy of the Crouch family, with the out marriages followed as carefully as the main line, dating back to the first of the family, a muggleborn ward of House Prewitt almost three hundred years ago. A list of people who had changed their names in the last fifty years, which was short as wizards tended not to save for marriages which were handled separately. Then a separate list of muggleborns with the name of Crouch or something similar. It had taken two weeks, as promised.

Now, three weeks after that they had not found a reasonable suspect for Fake Moody, and Percy had sent a defeated note saying that bastard children would not be listed even if their parents had given them the name of Crouch, and nor would any muggleborns educated abroad.

The Crouch family had been an intelligent and highly educated bunch and, as is often the case with such people, had rarely bothered to have more than one child. One by one the lines had died out, leaving only the main house, with Barty Junior dead in Azkaban. The line would become extinct when Mr Crouch died.

It could still be an illegitimate child, hoping to be recognised as heir. Maybe.

"People have broken out of Azkaban before."

Hermione did not sound hopeful, and Hazel silently handed her a copy of the burial record. Surely no-one would falsify such a callous and badly written form.

"We wait him out then." Tracy sighed. "We see what happens."

"We're basically important, aren't we?"

"In this matter, yes."

"I don't like it. "

"That's sort of the point."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

The feast had been long, with more courses than anyone really needed and enough of it went uneaten to really depress the house elves that had made it. But Percy, who was standing in for his debatably absent boss, had somehow managed to make Madame Maxine blush so it wasn't a total waste.

Dusk fell, then settled and Dumbledore rose and sent the champions on their way towards the maze. It was twenty foot high now, and it was probably best not to think about the super powered weed killer that would soon be used to get rid of it.

Hagrid was one of those chosen to patrol the borders, along with Fake Moody which wasn't at all suspicious, and it seemed that he had just realised who would be facing his deadly pets.

"Good luck Harry."

The smile he gave the half giant probably wasn't as comforting as it was meant to be.

"Ladies and gentleman, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you of how the points currently stand. In first place with 85 points, Mr Cedric Diggory!" The Hufflepuffs roared their support. "In second place with 80 points, Mr Victor Krum!" More applause, and some scattered wolf whistles. "And tied in third place Miss Fleur Delacour and Mr Harry Potter on 60 points each!"

Fleur had lost marks for playing nicely with the enemy and Harry's use of parseltongue had proven unpopular.

"So… away on my whistle Cedric! Three- two- one-!

He blew and Cedric was gone.

"On my mark Mr Krum!"

Victor hurried away, awkward as ever on the ground but still fast.

"And now for Potter and Delacour!"

She took the lead on her longer legs and he followed her in, light blooming on both their wands as the noise of the crowd fell away to nothing.

They reached a fork, and unanimously chose separate paths.

"See you later 'Arry."

"Try not to get eaten."

His words proved somewhat ironic when, two turns later, he ran into a Blast Ended Skrewt.

Xxxxxxx

Victor wasn't thinking about much right now.

He had already disabled Cedric Diggory and was now seeking Fleur Delacour because, something? He was supposed to wasn't he?

The mist in his head swirled and twisted, as it had since he had stunned the elder Hogwarts champion rather than breaking both his legs. He was down, that was disabled enough wasn't it?

Something was screaming though the fog, getting louder.

He heard movement and slid towards it, peering about the hedges just enough to catch a glimpse of silvery hair. Fleur. He was to disable Fleur.

Had he been more himself Victor would have noticed the way his hands were shaking as he lifted his wand. Normally he moved more quickly and took a mere moment to aim.

But this was not normal, and Fleur stepped out of view, down a familiar path and red sparks flew into the air where, if Victors cloud filled mind recalled correctly, he had left Diggorys sleeping form.

The fog of the imperious curse writhed and, trapped beneath it the loyal, defiant heart of Victor Krum laughed.

Xxxxxxxx

Barty could almost taste his victory. It had been a risk, targeting Krum, he was more likely to be trained in the darker magic and so more useful against the other champions, but by the same count might have been better able to resist it.

But he had failed, so Krum would deal with Diggory and Delacour leaving only a handful of obstacles between Potter and the cup that would take him where the Dark Lord needed him to be.

A shame that Potter would not survive the encounter, but with him dead the rest of the Hit Squad might bow and be spared. If was a fair trade, his lord restored and most of those charmingly viscous children saved for the price of a single life. A noble sacrifice, really.

Even if the boy had nearly killed him with furniture, it was a just exchange.

It was, of course, at this point that a button on his sleeve began to glow, signalling that someone was tampering with the wards on the trunk where he was keeping Moody hidden.

Seven layer trunks were fairly secure anyway, and he had layered on as many other wards as would take. His lord had bid him to take no chances, and the Rockwoods and Bellatrix had warned him that the Hit Squad had an odd talent for being where they were unwanted. The trunk should withstand anything any student could throw at it. But Barty Couch Junior was entirely too clever to trust in that, so he wrapped himself in his invisibility cloak and some notice-me-not spells and hurried back to the office that was arguably his.

He saw Indigo sitting on the desk though the wall, the magical eye useful as ever, saw the button spark again as another layer of the wards fell under the boys magic. Drew Moodys wand and then his own.

Ended up falling over limbs that weren't precisely his as he suddenly lost feeling in the foot that he did have and gained it in the one that he currently didn't. The wordless disarming spell didn't do him any good either, a pox on whoever taught the boy that.

Snape probably, or Narcissa, she was Bellatrix's sister after all.

"I really didn't expect that to work."

Barty, now wandless and on the floor, couldn't help but nod at Malfoys faintly disapproving, slightly disappointed tone. It was a letdown and he'd embarrassed himself.

"Judgement on me for kicking a door wearing a wooden leg."

"There's nothing wrong with a good old fashioned blasting hex Barty."

Purple eyes were knowing and oddly non-judgemental.

"My lord mentioned that you seem to know more than you should."

"Well, I am a Malfoy." He hopped from the desk, tucked his own wand into his hair and held the other two well out of reach as he bent and tugged off Moodys enchanted eye. "I don't like mind control, and I don't like people being locked in boxes."

"He won't remember most of it."

"Mm, because you don't like boxes either, having been unjustly locked in one, with dementors to boot." Malfoy straightened, his smiled slightly pained. "Your, genetic donor shall we say, barred Augusta Longbottom from the courtroom because she could, and would, prove that you had not done what you were accused of. She's an interesting woman."

Hearing it hurt more than he had thought it would.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Maybe I believe in cutting the rot out of wounds, or maybe I'm a sadist. Maybe both. Run along Barty, your game is now over. Do give Bella my regards."

Barty caught his wand and clambered to his –Moodys- foot.

"She is guilty."

"I know."

He knew that Malfoy was fond of Potter and Longbottom, he knew how much work must have gone into the weapons he'd made them, knew that Malfoys in general were not to be trusted, and he knew that his lord liked this boy though not why.

He left the button on the shelves by the door.

"Three more to go, then the basic spells built in."

He clunked away, moving quickly. He needed to be at least near the wardline before the polyjuice wore off because he damn well wasn't drinking another dose. He was sick of this scar covered body that ached at every shift in the weather, and he wanted his own two feet back.

Dear goddess but he wanted his own feet back.

Xxxxxxxxxx

The boggart was on fire and it was not her fault.

Fleur was quite certain of this. The silly thing should have known better to get so close to fighting wizards anyway, and how was she supposed to know they were so flammable? It was a psychic shape shifting thing, what was there to burn anyway?

The hedge was also on fire, and that she was willing to claim. She was surprised, yes, green wood didn't normally catch light that easily but Fleur was entirely willing to accept that she had set the hedge on fire. But considering that Victor, a sort of friend, has attacked her and was clearly under some sort of mind control she felt that she had a pretty good excuse. Particularly if it was the curse she thought it was.

Veela were not immune to mind control by virtue of genetics but exposure to each other tended to build up a certain resistance. Nor were they particularly good at breaking such curses on others, but they did have an extraordinary talent for usurping control. Their allure was particularly effective on minds already compromised.

Victors mind was defiantly compromised, and he seemed to be fighting it hard enough that it should have been nothing to tug the leash from its creator and wrap it about her softer hand. But it wasn't.

The spells that behaved like that were few and unanimously illegal.

A curse tore a hole in a hedge and caused the trap on the other side to implode with a _sluaping_ noise, and Fleurs counter curse slid of his shield without a sound.

It was the first time that she had regretted that Beauxbaton did not focus so heavily on battle magic as Europe's other premier schools. Durmstrang taught duelling and curses as a core subject, while Hogwarts focused on defence. In Beauxbatons bother were elective courses after 4th year, and not one she had favoured.

It was good that Victor had let her lead him away from Cedric's prone form, she could not have shielded him.

Another curse went wide. The smoke, or Victor fighting the commands implanted in his mind.

She did not want to hurt him.

That did not stop her setting him on fire as he rounded a corner, casting _impedimenta_ as he tried to put himself out, _expeliarmus_ when he froze and _stupefy_ once his wand was safely in her hands. But it did mean that she put out the flames afterwards and levitated his unconscious body through the hedge hole, away from the slowly dying fore and the smoke it released before sending up red sparks.

And then she stayed with him, because Victor was sort of a friend and it was her duty to make damn sure that everyone knew that he had been mind whamied and force them to fix it.

She didn't trust them to realise alone.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Susan watched the smoke and sparks rise above the maze with a considering expression that was mirrored by most of the Hit Squad and a significant portion of the Munchkin Army.

"Where is Indigo?"

"He went to break into Moodys office."

"Why would he..?" Susan trailed off, taking Miranda's confused and slightly disdainful expression with a sigh and a nod. "Opportunity and a lack of good reason not to, of course. Sorry. Nothing to do with this then?"

"Nope."

"It was probably Fleur. She torched the stands at the 2nd task."

"Wasn't that Hannah?"

Dean shrugged.

"There was more than one fire."

"Oh, yes. I had forgotten." She frowned. "Harry tends to put out fires, so he probably isn't involved."

"Ah?"

"I think it's a trap."

Ah. Dumbledore is next to Madame Maxine. Percy and Maleficent are keeping an eye on him."

"Yes." A long pause. "Where's Fake Moody?"

"What? But he likes us!"

"Yes, but Carrow is still calling Shacklebolt 'duckie' and he told me that I'm a fine young lady and should consider professional duelling, or world domination."

"Oh." Dean scowled. "Buggar. Do you think polyjuice keeps working after your dead.

Susan hesitated for a moment, seeking the train of thought. Hadn't Mrs Crouch died at about the same time as her son?

Had anyone seen the body?

"Buggar."

Xxxxxxxxxx

When Harry got out of here he was going to start a petition to get Hagrid enrolled in a Health and Safety course.

The Blast Ended Skrewt had resisted every curse thrown at it, and Harry had been forced to rip it apart from within using the water –probably mostly water anyway- in its stomach. Probably a stomach. This had resulted in a small explosion which had sprayed mysterious gunk out though the cracks in its shell and melted several hedges which caused them to half collapse under their own weight. But only half collapse as it seemed that Professor Sprout had been doing something mad science-ish with cuttings from the Whomping Willow and the hedges would both attack you for touching you and try to eat corpses, even ones that were dissolving their leaves.

No, Harry was not impressed but the Skrewt, or by the giant spider that had more recently tried to eat him. And he was probably going to have to get Hagrid a trip to a dragoon preserve to apologise for killing his pets. Perhaps Charlie knew someone?

Nor was he impressed by the false dead ends, or the mist that had tuned his eyes off for several meters, or the three separate humidifiers full of various potions and particularly not the flowers that spewed something like laughing gas at random intervals.

Somebody had had far to much fun designing this maze, and he rather suspected that it had been his head of house.

But most of all he was unimpressed by this over the top trophy that now sat, twinkling merrily at him at the end of the path. That had to be Dumbledores doing.

It was to easy, and he should have bumped into at least one of the other champions by now. Instead their had been two loads of red sparks and a faint smell of smoke.

"Point me Fleur Delacour."

He took the indicated pathway, followed it for some distance and stopped abruptly.

The sphinx turned and blinked huge almond shaped eyes at him.

"You are going the wrong way."

According to the Monster Book of Monsters a sphinx was immune to almost every form of wizards magic, including the Unforgivables, and even if you did somehow manage to kill one a cub/clone would eat its way out of its predecessors womb and rise, a cannibalistic phoenix, with all the knowledge of its mother, including a grudge against her murderer.

She lashed her tail threateningly.

"There is only one way out, and it is not past me. Be gone, thrice dead."

"Excuse me."

The cup was still there, waiting for him, but the path by which he had arrived was gone, swallowed by moving hedges.

"Come into my parlour..?"

He grasped a handle.

It was slick with some unknown polish or poison, but he couldn't let go. A familiar hook had lodged itself in his stomach and the cup, the portkey, whirled him away.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Josaphine had not entirely expected Harry Potter to fall into their trap. She had particularly not expected him to collapse on arrival, looking both distinctly unwell and rather offended.

She stunned him anyway, because she was many things but not stupid.

Xxxxxxx

Alastor Moody stared dazedly up at light, long blond hair and a distinctly worried expression.

"I think I'm going to go and find Pomfrey."

He snorted at the boy, judging by the voice.

"Drop me a cloak you wuss, the warming spells just failed."

The one dropped down to him was one of his own.

* * *

><p>Next time: Things You See In A Graveyard<p> 


	18. Chapter 18

Authors Note: Writing this hurt way more than I expected it to and I've known it was coming since Indy and Diary!Voldemort started flirting without my permission. Hopefully I've forshadow'd enough to have you all prepared.

unkNOWncat: And five days later you get an update! Annoyingly belated present! I think of Rabastan as Bella brother-in-law, but I could have gotten the name wrong. I have before.

HevenSentHellBroken: Zydrate come in a little glass vial

Daughter of Jehova: Um... You are not going to like my plot twists. But I don't really like this plot twist either so...

lordamnesia: I ache to de-magic them and lock them in a room for a while. Just to see what they end up talking about.

Umei no Mai: Particularly when you're all a bit murderous! Lets be honest, the Hit Squad would be terrifying death munchers if they were raciest.

**Wherein most hope of Harigo is squashed**

* * *

><p><span>Things You See In A Graveyard<span>

"Come on Potter, you can't sleep forever."

The voice was odd, wrong odd. It had layers where it shouldn't and harmonics that no fleshy voice box was meant to produce.

"Wake up Harry, you need to pay attention now. You'll learn something."

Wrong, audibly wrong. But he shouldn't need to hear it, why couldn't he sense it?

Harry forced his eyes open, struggling to make his flesh respond, and peered at the somewhat familiar, lumpy, red eyed, slowly crumbling form before him.

"Lord Voldemort." Had he always sounded like that? So, young. "This is an improvement on your last situation, but not by much."

The Dark Lord gave him a small, slightly rueful smile, to human for the voice and to pleasant for the situation.

It is far from an idle shape, I grant you. But we will be fixing that soon" It will be so nice to have my own skin again. I have missed it so these last, oh, thirteen odd years." He smirked at Harry's reproving look, red eyes gliding clinically over his slumped form. "But you do not look well, enemy mine. I would have thought that Bartys little poison would have faded by now, its notoriously short lived, but you seem unusually susceptible to it."

Harry squinted, his eyes oddly blurred, and tried to haul the graveyard into focus. Or at least as much of it as he could see, tied to statue as he was.

"You are very pointedly not moving. Why is that?"

"Clever little raven." The appreciative amusement was more than a little surreal. "I'm taking no chances with you. The ward ring will stop you calling on any significant magic, but it wouldn't do me any good at all."

"Possession is magic based then?"

A horrible though occurred. Harry, or perhaps Hakkai was the better name to use now, was not the original or intended occupant of this body. Say he still counted as a possessing spirit, what would this clever little ward do to him? Or them, rather.

"You are very pale little raven."

"Are you planning to talk all night Lord Voldemort? Because I was hoping to be back before midnight and this statue is really very uncomfortable."

It was pure bravo but he didn't have much else to use. And Voldemort clearly knew that.

"Well I would hate to inconvenience you."

He stepped carefully away and walked slowly to the large stone caldron that had been directly behind him, hidden from Harry's view by the angle of his, someone's, body as had Luke Rockwood who tended it.

"Well?"

"It is ready my lord."

"_Excellent" _it was half breathed, and it was only the increased tension in Rockwoods stance that said Voldemort had used parseltongue. That and the tiny adder that rose from his sleeve.

And why could he understand parseltongue within the circle? Something to consider later.

The adder twisted, flexed and arched and snapped at nothing, then slid from the arm of the fleshy, broken man Voldemort had ridden as he crumpled.

"_Pay attention Harry"_

Bellatrix bent to lift the little snake, and Voldemort curled gently around her wrist for a moment as she carefully lowered him into the, whatever it was in the caldron.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son."

The earth of a nearby grave cracked, and dust flowed into the caldron at Luke's command. The potion turned and intense, venomous blue.

"Flesh of the servant, willingly give, you will revive your master." Rabastan didn't even blink as he severed his own hand and let it drop into the fluid.

Even Bellatrix had flinched. Just how damaged was he?

"Blood of the enemy, forcefully taken, you will resurrect your foe. "

The ropes were strong and tightly bound, by Josephine still handed Luke her wand before she approached, carefully opened a wound and directed his blood into a saucer. Her blade was sharp enough that it barely hurt and the potion turned a blinding white, leaving sunspots in his eyes.

It would have been a moment to attempt an escape, if he could more.

The light vanished, steam swallowed the death eaters and Harry, squinting –hadn't James Potter worn glasses- saw the silhouette of a tall, slightly too thin man.

"My robes."

Bellatrix obliged, grinning madly.

Voldemort, crimson eyed, blacked haired, to pale, too thin and a subtly serpentine nose smiled as he climbed, with surprising grace, out of the caldron.

"You were much prettier when you were a sixteen year olds soul bit."

The Lestranges seemed outraged, the Rockwoods carefully not reacting and Voldemort burst out laughing.

Why did the evil people have to have a sense of humour?

Xxxxxxx

The Delacour family had been matriarchal for centuries, even more so than the rest of magical France who generally considered man t be entirely to susceptible to the ravages of their genitals to be left without supervision. A veela marrying in had only made them more so.

Fleur had thrown the mother of all hissy fits, with the result that an unharmed, if confused, Cedric was on his way to the Hospital Wing while several mind healers and a spell damage expert were on their way from St Mungo's to deal with the attack upon Victor. She had also demanded that the maze be searched for the attacker and Harry located.

Her mother was very proud.

Dumbledore had objected and been sharply reminded that he was on medical leave, to the surprise of many who hadn't realised that Flitwick knew how to be sharp. Moodys absence had not gone unnoticed.

Particularly by Augusta Longbottom, who could always sense trouble, or Remus Lupin, who could literally smell fear.

"What happened?"

"What is wrong with them?"

"Augusta please-"

"Best guess? Imperious curse."

Albus managed not to flinch as Sirius wheeled to face first Fleur, who nodded grimly, and then Severus who had spoken in the first place.

They still hated each other, but remained coolly civil for first Harry's sake and then Remus's as the werewolf and the potions master formed an unlikely friendship. But grey eyes met black, and for this one moment they found themselves in perfect accord.

"What. Have. You. Done. With. My. Godson?!"

Everyone had heard that.

And suddenly many remembered that Sirius was Bellatrix Lestrange's cousin, raised with her in the House of Black. And they recalled why they had once found it so easy to believe that he had killed thirteen people with a single spell.

And this time Albus Dumbledore did flinch.

Xxxxxxxxx

The first thing Voldemort did once he stopped laughing was provide Rabastan with a new hand. One crafted of clever, silver magic.

Luke glanced at his wife, who nodded slightly in agreement. Their lord was very much changed and, dare they think it, improved. What had happened, during those years of un-death?

"Well, we are victorious my clever, faithful darlings. But we must summon those less true back to us."

"Second chances, my lord?"

"As distasteful as it is, Josephine."

They bent head, even if the Lestranges grumbled.

"But first, Harry Potter what are we to do with you?" Crimson eyes flicked over the slumped boy. "You are more dependent upon your magic than I expected."

The boy made a pained, distracted noise in response.

There was something very wrong about his reaction to those wards. An elf might react so, an ancient vampire or an akuma, any of those species that were as much magic as they were flesh. But a child and a half blood child at that? No.

Voldemort frowned slightly, glided over and carefully, deliberately, erased a tiny section of the circle. Not enough to unmake it, but enough to rend if imperfect and far less effective.

Potters green, green eyes refocused almost instantly.

"Do I need to be coherent for my murder, Lord Voldemort?"

"Well it would be rather undignified not to be. But do I need to kill you, Potter?"

"You did just declare me your enemy, and that is Lord Potter, thank you."

"Not until you pass your OWL's, technically. And torture, imprisonment and conversion as always options. In your case I would favour the latter."

"That is not an offer I ever thought to hear from you."

"You are an interesting boy with interesting friends. It would be a waste to kill you all,. And you, of all of them, know how very unpleasant muggles can be."

"Because you murdered my parents."

"Well, yes. But they died very quickly. Do you morn them still?"

Harry breathed, closed his eyes and frowned a little.

"I did not know them well enough to truly morn them. But that does not mean that I agree with you goals. And you can hardly expect me to agree with your methods."

A soft sigh.

"A shame. And what happened to the boy who stuck a knife in my back?"

"It was not those methods I was referring to."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Moody wasn't in a bad state, considering that he'd been locked in a trunk for several months. It didn't take long to get him settled in a screened off bed.

So Poppy was a little surprised to return to her office and find Indigo perched on her desk. She had expected him to be with the Hit Squad now, making plans and spreading the news. Perhaps to return later but not here, not now, not arranging rolls of parchment upon her desk.

"It's the design for our new, not bleeding out gizmo."

"I rather though you were occupied with other matters."

"It could be improved. He's healthy enough then?"

"Just atrophied mussels and some vitamin deficiencies." She watched him watch his hands. "Why aren't you with your friends?"

"Nothing we can do at this point."

He was very, very firmly not looking at her.

"Is everything about to go wrong Indigo?"

"Only if Harry dies, and he won't. I have contingency plans for everything else." He toyed with one of the ribbons. "I have contingency plans for that as well, actually."

"I wondered, what did the dementors want with you?"

His smile was a confession in itself.

"Absolutely nothing."

Xxxxxxxxx

Barty cracked into the graveyard, fell over his own leg as it grew back, sending the wooden one flying off, and then sat up and glanced around, shaking dirt from his hair.

"Graceful, Barty, graceful."

He looked up, over dark robes, past the offered hand o red eyes.

"My lord."

"In the flesh. You have done well."

Barty took the hand, and kissed it as he shuffled to his knees. He couldn't stop grinning.

Lord Voldemort chuckled indulgently and tugged him to his feet.

"You have done very well my do. And look at our prize." Harry Potter was tied to a statue, and Barty didn't flinch. "Ah, but you like him it seems. Alas, he declines to bow. I shall not hurt him for it, but he may have to die."

"He could, perhaps, be made to bow." Luke suggested it gently.

"It would end badly. I imperio'd him once, he almost killed me with a desk."

"Really?" Bellatrix sounded wistful.

"Mm. I had to be rescued by the Davis girl and one of the Hit Squads mudbloods. Your nephew sends his regards."

Bellatrix beamed. Harry froze, slowly moved to stare.

"I beg your pardon."

"Yes, do tell Barty. How is the young Malfoy?"

He could drive a wedge in here, separate the Malfoy from Potter forever and probably the rest as well. It would ensure his allegiance to his lord, should Potter survive.

"He seems hale my lord, if perhaps a little tired. He broke into my office to get Moody out of the trunk and, ah, kick me out of his sand-pit. It seems the young Lord Indigo disapproves of locking people in boxes."

A little frown on the Boy-Who-Lived's face.

"So assured of his loyalty?" Bellatrix smiled. "So shocked by this?"

"Merely surprised that Mr Crouch survived the encounter." A tight smile. "You must be quite skilled."

"Thank you, but you appear to be labouring under a miscomprehension. He had opportunity to kill me and declined to take it."

Voldemort, now sitting on a gravestone, smiled oddly. Bellatrix giggled. The Rockwoods observed in easy silence. And Harry Potter was very, very still.

"Tell you a secret sweetling? Last year, that messy little business."

"Your assistance against the Nightmares was appreciated."

"Ah, such nice manners! But after that. The dementors, sweetling, those nasty things. They were after me, until my poppet started setting them on fire." A radiant smile. "He's so kind to his old auntie."

Harry stared at her, adjusting his balance defensively without seeming to know he had done it.

"I confess, Lady Lestrange, I did not expect attempts at physiological warfare from you. Though that was quite elegant, divided opposition is so much easier to destroy."

"But a spy in your camp would have been so very, very useful." Lord Voldemort sighed. "Really Bella?"

She shrank like a chastised child.

Potter stared blankly into space.

And Barty found his gaze drawn to a little flaw in the ward.

Xxxxxxxx

The minister was shrieking, Black was shouting, Lupin was snarling, Dumbledore stuttering and Longbottom making no sound at all in a way that was actually far more frightening than anything any of the men could say.

Maleficent was recording every single word.

Someone was going to pay though the nose for this record.

The scent of Yuki Greengrass reached her, and moment later the girl was at her side. Then she moved closer, closer than most would ever care to get to a vampire, and read the words spilling from the enchanted quill.

"Oh dear."

"There is nothing you or I can do."

"Yes, I know."

Xxxxxxx

Harry suspected that he was in shock.

They must be lying. Indigo wouldn't betray him, betray Neville, like that. Voldemort was a threat but nowhere near as much as Gyumao or Ukoku had been. A coordinated effort could ruin his powerbase and Indigo was, must be, aware of that. They were lying, intelligently and very sensibly, to disrupt one of the strongest opposing factions.

Indigo would not turn on him. Indigo loved him, even if he wouldn't, couldn't admit as such due to his general paranoia and a deeper and more painful fear of physical intimacy.

Which several rumours said he had been dealing with by liberal application of several of some of the more adventurous Beauxbaton's students. Rumours he had dismissed entirely because of course he knew better.

Was he so sure of his loyalty, or his paranoia? Any fool could see that he loved Miranda. And anyone who knew him could see that he had been at war with himself for at least a year, if not longer.

How had he convinced Voldemort to let Ginny go?

Severus bore a Dark Mark. Lucius and Abraxas Malfoy had both been important death eaters. Bellatrix was a favourite. It wasn't as though Indigo had any real qualms about murder, the life of Genjyo Sanzo had instilled a ready appreciation of a quick death and the killing curse promised that.

And Neville…

Daniel was also his brother. And Flare to, in away.

A soft touch on his cheek, and Harry blinked aware to find Bartemius Crouch II within the circle with him, a handkerchief in hand.

When had he started crying?

"Good evening, professor."

"You still call me that?"

"You are a good teacher. We liked you. Conspiring to commit murder does not actually change that."

Barty blinked slowly, glanced around.

"Your wand is by the cup. It's still a portkey." His expression was studiously blank as he finished cleaning Harry's face. "I like you too."

He moved away, to stand beside Josephine as Voldemort did, something to Rabastan's dark mark that gave Harry the ghost of a headache.

He had trodden on the ward as he left.

Harry managed to destroy the ropes as the death eaters arrived and, weighing the odds against his weakness, ran.

And Barty had not lied.

Xxxxxxxxx

Sirius squeaked as Harry appeared, dumped with the graceless whirl of a bad portkey dismount. The Triwizzard Cup was in one hand, and his arm was bleeding.

Remus got their first, and kicked him in the chest when he tried to fling himself at his godson.

"Harry? Prongslett, what happened?"

"Does it count as a life debt when he go me into that situation in the first place?" his fingers curled into Remus's robes, a gesture to childlike for his eerily composed godson. "Owing him would be very awkward."

"Harry, my boy-"

"Mr Potter-!"

"Voldemort has his own body again and has called his servants back to him. Prepare for war minister."

"W-what? NO! Nonsense, utter nonsense! Lies to cause panic and discredit the ministry!"

"Pardon my bearing of inconvenient facts." It was snapped, Harry was openly glaring and his eyes were slightly red rimmed. "But blether will not change them."

Fudge spluttered noisily.

Sirius got up and helped Remus haul Harry towards the hospital wing, Augusta clearing a path for them with her umbrella until the Hit Squad formed up around them and scattered the crowd.

But his Malfoy cousin was oddly absent.

* * *

><p>And next, as you might expect: Wherein Everything Hurts<p> 


	19. Chapter 19

Re-named this chapter so many damn times.

Firehedgehog: insert dramatic music here

akitty: Cheer up, I fully expect this to dissolve into angry sex at some point. It will probably involve fangs.

Grey-Rain-Cloud: It's a plan. And it sucks balls but it happens to be working.

Umei no Mai: I think Luna will get a bigger role in the next one, and Susan maybe? Amelia and Remus as well. the adults are getting in on the action at last. It didn't help in that situation, but, long term he needs to be pissed.

* * *

><p><span>Of Consequence and Misery<span>

"I didn't expect to find you here." Susan eyed the blond beside her, who didn't give her so much as a glance.

"Fake-Moody had Actual-Moody locked in a trunk."

"For the polyjuice I presume. That would be convenient for him, or her?"

"Him. Mr Crouch's son wasn't as dead as we thought he was."

"I suspected as much."

"Naturally. Your boy will recover."

"This is not how I wanted him to meet my aunt."

He wasn't moving enough. Wasn't blinking enough.

"It could be worse, no-one is bleeding accept Harry and that isn't even vaguely Victor's fault." A single blink. "And now he's stopped."

"Do we get to go in now then." Millicent had been eavesdropping, because of course she had.

"Not yet, Hush, don't get Sirius excited."

"Ah. Fudge?"

"Annoying or delicious?"

"You don't like sweet things. He is an idiot and he will behave like one."

"Maybe Voldemort will kill him for us?" It was a nice thought, but Susan wasn't going to hold her breath. Why kill an incompetent enemy?

Indigo should have said something biting on that subject, but he didn't.

Xxxxxxx

Cornelius Fudge was going home. He had a statement to draw up.

A press release first thing in the morning, before Black could gather his lawyers or Krum his wits. Release the information, but in a controlled manner, a careful manner. Nothing that could be dis-proven, he couldn't tangle with a slander case at this point and Lupin had already displayed his flagrant disrespect for his superiors, just a little bit of spin.

A security breach was Dumbledore's fault, or Crouch's. And some of the blame could surely be aimed at Mad Eye Moody, he had been the best once, how could he let such a thing happen? Then the escaped Death Eaters must be a fault, or that's what he'd say anyway, and Potter had broken under the stress of the tournament when they came. They had gone after Hogwarts before, gone after Potter before. Another attempt, perhaps Lord Potter should stay somewhere more secure in future? Where he wouldn't draw such dangerous attention to a school.

Oh, yes, perfect. It would have to be carefully worded, just hinted at delicately or Lupin would jump on it but gently, gently he could turn the population on their once and never savior. Who didn't want to see the hero fail?

And Hogwarts needed a closer eye kept on it, his own people in place, for security of course. That auror, Dawlish wasn't it, would do for a start and a leader to the operation, someone who could take advantage of Dumbledore's already shaky reputation –attacked the students, work it into the press release somehow- to bring that place to heel.

He had the perfect candidate already.

Xxxxxxx

"Zis es not how I vanted to meet you Lady Bones."

Amelia eyed the boy, considering his slightly dazed expression against the faintly rueful tone.

"Not quite what I had in mind either. What do you remember from before you were, controlled."

"Nothing strange. I do not know zey voice, but perhaps you can identify it if you haf zey memory?"

"That would be appreciated. My people will fetch a pensive. What do you recall from, afterwards?"

"Fog. I vas to disable ze ozzer champions, save Arry who vas not to be 'urt. Cedric was not difficult. Fleur dodged zie first curse, und set me on fire. It vas very sensible."

"She demanded the specialists summoned. Wish I had a dozen like her. Friend of yours?"

"Friend of 'Arry's, sort of? Indigo's cousin. A respected acquaintance and honoured opponent."

"She is a beautiful young woman."

"…Yes? Did ve just change conversations?"

"The healers say you resisted heavily. I would think that you were order to, ah, permanently disable the competition. That neither is really hurt speaks well of your will power."

"Zank you?"

"What are you intensions towards my niece?"

"I think ve could love each ozzer. I vould like to find out."

He was probably too confused to lie at this point, and if he'd made a love declaration she might have had to hurt him. Quite a lot.

"Get some sleep, I'll send the pensive in the morning. Where are your parents?"

"I zink zey are vith ze healers."

"Good."

She left, and was pretty certain that he had no idea what had just happened.

Xxxxxxxx

Minerva had sent for a crew of wards keepers the moment Potter landed. Hogwarts had once been the most secure estate in Europe but they were past the point of maintaining that little delusion. The wards had clearly, catastrophically, failed and they had to know why before it could be fixed. There was certainly no-one in the building who could even begin to address the matter.

Goblin wards keepers were fiendishly expensive, but with four major security failures in as many years Hogwarts would simply have to manage. She had taken charge of the schools faults, which were under the dungeons and interestingly near the Slytherin dooms, and the emergency funds had been untouched for centuries and should cover most of it. No doubt Dumbledore would have emptied the fault to fight Voldemort, as he had so many others, but the wards were clever and the gold could only be touched for genuine school related emergencies. The Headmaster had the key, but not the control.

And she would be headmaster now. Albus had tried to reclaim his place, declared himself recovered and needed now. With Voldemort returned he must be here to protect Hogwarts.

Augusta had demanded a vote of no confidence and promptly left to get one from the Board of Governors.

It would be useful in forcing Albus to go away, but there was only two ways to force a Headmaster to relinquish the wards if they would not cede them willingly and the other was killing him. She summoned the teachers and called for a Census of Disregard.

It required 80% against him, but she already had the Head of House and as for the rest, well. Most had been aware of the incidents already, but she filled in the details. Two possessions, Dark Lord baiting, Death Eater invasions, someone impersonating a man who was supposed to be Dumbledore's friend, dementors attacking students not once but twice, the Basilisk and how these things had been resolved by students every time.

A few hesitated until Severus chipped in. He had always been persuasive.

Troll, Cerberus, murder of unicorns, giant spiders in the forest who were currently at war with the centaurs, if anyone cared to ask. Did they?

Only Hagrid voted in Dumbledore's favor, but he had always been terribly loyal. Trelawny abstained.

Minerva was asked to succeed the post. The ritual to cast Albus out was short but exhausting.

The wards twined about her awareness, full of holes and weighed down and she _couldwouldmust_ make it right-

Xxxxxxxxx

Harry knew, vaguely, that he was in shock The symptoms were clear enough, the cold, the shakes, the numbness in his head. It was to be expected really, he'd been kidnapped, bleed, betrayed and nearly forced from his flesh.

Quite normal. And Madame Pomfrey really did make excellent hot chocolate.

"You can have your visitors now."

"Thank you, Madame."

He heard her stern instructions to 'not tire him' before the curtains were swept apart and his guardians and the Hit Squad filled the space.

Sirius whimpered as he wrapped Harry in his arms, and Remus was quite definitely scenting them both, and possibly scent marking as well.

"It really isn't that bad. They weren't really interested in hurting me, and I ran before they tried to kill me." Sirius whimpered again. Wrong thing to say then. "We'll have to do something about Fudge, won't we?"

Remus nodded slightly.

"My aunt wants to talk to you tomorrow." Susan sat carefully at the end of the bed. "She will try, but he is a formidable spin doctor."

"I will rip out his heart and eat it before his dying eyes." the words came as a low, loving rumble from somewhere near Remus's heart. "And probably make myself ill in the process."

"Just so long as your alibi is airtight." George didn't even bother with twin speak. "Hey."

"Hello. Do we have a plan?"

"No. No we don't. We rather lack adult allies."

"Order of the Pheonox is really Dumbledore's." muttered Sirius, which meant nothing to Hermione but did to a few others.

"Then we must make an ally of him." Tracy shrugged. "Temporarily."

"What, now?" Ron frowned.

"Sooner rather than later." Millicent scowled. "We don't know how quickly Voldemort can mobilize his forces."

This time both of his dogfathers whimpered.

"Has to be done. Go on, I am well guarded here."

"That you are." A slow withdrawal. "Come on Sirius."

"But Mooney!"

"I know, but the children are inconveniently right. Again."

A pout and a squeeze and they left.

"Voldemort never freaked you this bad." Neville moved into the space Sirius had left, all big, concerned eyes. "Harry?"

He couldn't talk for a moment, knots in his tongue, eyes prickling.

"Indigo?"

"Harry."

"The apprenticeship will have to be canceled."

"There are other potions masters. Not as good as Severus, certainly, but they do exist."

"Not what I meant. Voldemort asked me to work with him. "

"The man has taste."

"He asked after you, and I think the young Mr Crouch." He couldn't quite look at him for a moment, glancing instead at the confusion and vague suspicion that tangled over other faces. "Your aunt was pleased to hear from you."

"Ah."

"And they tell such interesting stories." It was clear that Neville didn't understand. The possibility had never occurred to him, had it? "Did they lie?"

"Would it profit them to do so?"

"Ah. What's the plan Indigo?"

"It's a work in process."

"Bullshit."

"Not this time."

"Would someone care to explain this conversation." Susan's tone was sharp.

Harry looked at last and saw Indigo's perfectly still faced and half closed eyes. He'd seen it before, once or twice. Rial had gone away again, somewhere within his head.

"You saved Bellatrix's life, and you spared Barty Crouch junior."

Yuki didn't seem surprised, nor Flare and Miranda didn't twitch. Hannah blinked like all the pieces had come together. Jackie looked like he might be about to scream. Ron just frowned a little.

"Deny it. Please."

"You can always tell when I'm lying."

There was a long moment of silence as the confession sunk in. Then Susan stood, took two long strides, and slapped him.

"You- you-"

"The first one is free Bones, then we get nasty."

That had been chosen to provoke, but Jackie caught her before the punch connected.

"Stop it. Stop, just… This doesn't make sense. You have a plan, you must because there is no other way that this makes sense Indigo…" He trailed off, seeing something awful in blank purple eyes. "You have never said a mean word to me Draco Malfoy."

"Your definition of mean concerns me."

"This doesn't make sense."

A flicker of life, of emotion, was swiftly squashed. Indigo tugged the taller boys head down, kissed his forehead, and pushed him away. "

Jacsursi son of Mirivell I hold your oath fulfilled, go with honor and in peace."

"No."

"I don't need you. Find something else to do." A dismissal in the cool tone, in the turn of his head. "Good evening, my ladies, my lords, and goodbye."

He tried to go. Neville bolted and caught his wrist as he had so often before.

A full body flinch, too fast to be stopped.

"She, destroyed, my family."

"…Your family is not worth more than mine."

He started walking the second Neville hand dropped, and didn't look at his once-twin.

"He always has to have the last word." Yuki sighed, straightened her robes. "See you around, hm? Let's not set a bad example for the rest of the school, hm? They've come so far these last few years."

"You knew?" even Tracy sounded startled.

"I guessed. What else could it possibly be with that timing?"

"I echo my honored sister."

"I asked." Miranda shrugged. "That works sometimes. Try not to die, m'kay?"

"You treacherous little shits!"

"Language Susan. You're all but in charge now; consider your dignity."

The door closed softly behind them.

Neville didn't move.

Julian silently wrapped him in his arms and let his little housemate sob into his chest.

Xxxxxxx

Severus peered thoughtfully down at the new Headmistress, she had lit up with St Elmo's Fire the moment they had removed Dumbledore, and fell a few minutes later as the lights vanished. Moving her to a chair had been simple enough, and the diagnosis of magical exhaustion had been a simple one.

Arabella had taught him ways to lend another a little of his magic. Her family used it to sustain their elders and ease the use of draining rituals and it was not especially difficult provided that you trusted and respected whoever you were aiding.

He did, oddly enough, trust and respect Minerva.

She did not appear to be in any danger of death or serious harm, so there was nothing to do but keep her warm, wait, and feed her when she woke up.

"The wards had been purposefully lowered, repressed and were being drained of power."

"…Albus?"

"Who else. He has betrayed all that we stand for." She was gritting her teeth. "I will destroy him for this."

"Once Voldemort is dealt with, please. Like it or not Dumbledore made the Order, we will need him to re-call it."

"Must you be so damn calculating Severus?"

"I am a Slytherin, and you won't be destroying anyone for a while regardless. Here, eat."

She tore into the sandwich with a complete lack of her normal manners and washed it down with a pint of pumpkin juice before looking hungrily around for more.

A house elf popped in with a large pan of stew and a loaf of bread, and left Severus blinking because he had borne a startling resemblance to Dobby, but what would the Malfoy elf be doing here?

Minerva dug in with a gusto which was only to be expected. She might well consume her own weight over the next twenty four hours. It was no small thing for one of her power to so nearly deplete their core, and no small thing to begin restoring it.

"Have you restored the wards?"

She snorted loudly.

"Hardly. The blocks are gone but to regain their full power would kill me a thousand times over. Did you know Hogwarts was sentient Severus?"

The sheer power implied was more than a little terrifying.

"No, but it would explain a great deal. Can the other teachers donate magic?"

"Teachers and students yes."

"But not the house elves?" A shame, they were considerably stronger than any human magic user could hope to be.

"The house elves are the only things keeping the wards going as it is."

"Ah. Give me the details of the ritual. My seventh years and I will need tomorrow off."

"Well, the exams are done with. All of them, Severus?"

"Slytherin stands together, and my children are, themselves."

"Ha! So they are. Your common room will do. Podma's after, and mine last. We mustn't make the wards top heavy. Then the sixth years and the fifth. Teachers again once the students leave."

"And repeat."

"Twice a year for the next five years."

"Six, few have your strength." He deposited pencil and paper on the table beside her. "We had best get started."

Xxxxxxx

Indigo hadn't gotten that far. They found him curled over in one of Hogwarts many abandoned classrooms, this one looked like it had once been used to teach healing, curled up against a wall and crying into his own knees.

Yuki took one side, Flare the other, and Miranda bullied her way into his lap until he had no choice but to cry into her shoulder instead.

Slowly the tears stopped coming, for now at least. He had never been able to abide their seeing him weak for long.

"Indigo, your plan sucks."

The snicker was dry and painful, but still an improvement.

"Thanks Flare."

"Feedback is a good thing. How did you get to this point? A double agent, yes, certainly, you would be the obvious choice. But this?"

"That was the original plan. Play the game for information and the horacrux's. First part went beautifully."

"Save the Weaslette and introduce yourself?"

"Positive attention and I didn't have to pretend to be subservient."

"That was a much better plan. What happened?"

"Bellatrix."

"More detail brother mine."

"Bellatrix Lestrange is barren." It was Miranda who spoke, softly sad. "But only because she took a spell aimed at Mama which would, most likely, have killed her unborn child and destroyed her ability to conceive another."

"She didn't know that she was pregnant when she did that, but it dies and I lived. Normally her marriage would have been annulled at that point, but it seems Rodolfus did actually care for her."

"I keep forgetting that they were people before they were psychotic mass murders." Flare sighed. "I should know better."

"You really ought. Three life debts then."

"Three now. We owe her for her baby as well."

"Ah, yes." Yuki frowned at the vaulted ceiling. "If you had told them at the time all would be forgiven."

"And when she demanded say, Susan's head on a platter I would be well placed to acquire it for her."

"We could have lied. She may still demand that."

"Voldemort is a renowned legimancer and I can only guard a few minds at once. She could but I doubt she will. She thinks of me as a Black now, the child of her beloved sister rather than that twat she married. And Bellatrix might be as mad as a sack of psychiatrists but she still loves her family. We are good at devotion."

"Very true. And Crouch?"

"He really likes Harry, and between the dementor damage and his father keeping him imperio'd for over a decade it wasn't hard to plant, suggestions. He was the contingency plan."

Black devotion indeed. Indigo loathed anything that smacked of mind control, but for Harry…

"So your absolutely terrible plan seems to be working."

"Seems to happen that way a lot."

"And you didn't tell us."

"If you were ignorant you could stay with them, it gave you choices." Miranda shrugged. "I didn't have one to start with, even if I wanted one."

"We could have worked out a way Mira."

"I'm good at devotion Indy."

"Which should have been obvious. You are very stupid, brother of mine, but I forgive you. You are a boy after all, it can't be helped."

"Is this sexist bullshit I smell?"

Xxxxxxxxx

The Nutters sheltered in their shared bed, curtains drawn and Jackie caught in the middle. He was calmer now, the shock over, the tears past.

"Jackie?"

"Mm?"

"What oaths?"

A soft sigh.

"I was, a gift. As a show of good faith when we took up residence on the estate I was presented to Indigo as, a slave really. As for as the elders were concerned I was his property and he could do whatever he liked with me. Ma had less influence then you see. Indigo was not impressed."

"The fey practice slavery?"

"They regard it more as, sacrifice. Encouragement for this benevolent witch-child to remain benevolent. Only he had made the deal in good faith, maintenance of his woodlands for the right to live in it, no need for sweeteners."

"But he took you anyway."

"Looked me in the eye and stopped arguing, don't know why. He said I would be a Vassal of House Malfoy and I could leave anytime I wanted. That involved oaths, to seal it, and he wanted honesty and protection for his sister. In exchange I was housed, fed, clothed and educated. I couldn't read then, you know. And as a Vassal of a Ancient and Noble house I was eligible for Hogwarts and he argued me into attending on the ground that I'd be a better bodyguard in I had a fully rounded education father than just the curriculum of Measter's Defensive, which had been my first choice."

The Twin's frowned at the mention of the other school, which heavily emphasized dueling, battle magic, poison recognition and basic healing. It wasn't a bad school, it produced around two-thirds of those who went into the auror training program, but it wasn't, prestigious.

It was for the lower class, half bloods and the less promising muggleborns and only truly, totally impoverished purebloods. The Weasleys were borderline, yes, but they had still put all seven children into Hogwarts rather than consider any of the cheaper schools.

"We'd never have met. "

"I was so lonely here before you two."

"Well, you stay with us now. And we'll get the Owl orders set up over the summer, start our joke shop when we leave. We will be awesome."

"Or we could just, you know, ask if anyone wants to invest."

"Boring!"

A ghost of a smile and silence settled again.

"It just doesn't make sense. He's not like that."

They curled closer, no answer for the plaintive words.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Dumbledore left in the morning, bags floating behind him and the key to an isolated cottage that Remus had once called home in his pocket.

Amelia left a little later, having declared herself satisfied as to Victor's intention suitability and failed to get an answer to her niece's strange silence.

The Slytherin seventh years woke at noon, ate a truly monumental amount of food, explained to their friends in other houses and promptly went back to bed.

McGonagall appeared briefly to make a speech which referred to Dumbledore, the state of the wards and Voldemort and somehow managed not to cause any panic at all.

The Hit Squad drifted, dazed and miserable until an unwise Ravenclaw, who had noticed new patterns in them, made a comment at Millicent and was descended upon on mass for disproportionate retribution.

The ex-Hit Squadies maintained a polite distance from their former allies.

Maleficent and Madame Pomfrey stayed quiet and paid a very great deal of very close attention.

And this precarious balance somehow survived until the Hogwarts express came to take them away. Jackie went home with Neville.

Xxxxxxx

Liz stood out on the platform, her blend of muggle and magical clothing, stillness and the few inches of smooth hair before it became a horrible mess were bizarre. She also had half a dozen homeless children lurking at her side.

"You look terrible. Worked then?"

"Seamlessly. I have actually offended myself. And good afternoon Liz, how are you?"

She snorted, kissed his check and gave Miranda a hug.

"Bite me boss. Hello poppet."

"The fuck are these weirdos?"

It was whispered. That didn't mean much around psychics.

"I am Indigo, Lord of House Malfoy, aka the man you are asking to take responsibility for you for the next X years. She is Lady Miranda, heiress to the House of Prince and the only person who might take you in if I cop it. So remember your manners."

"And on that note, Leonard teleports. Mike does illusions, Alina and Irum are general purpose. Toby heals and Mary-"

"Untrained telepaths shouldn't tangle with crowds little one. I won't hurt her."

He slipped past her scowling brother and touched the shaking six year-old's face. She sighed in relief.

"It's quiet."

"I'll teach you to block them. Liz?"

"The rock works it you put it on a string. Mostly. And only when you manage not to hit yourself with it and avoid anything with wards. Did you know the House of Parliament was warded?"

"No, but any royal residence is as well.. Right. House rules. What I say goes, don't argue with my Vassals or parents, listen to your tutors, Liz outranks all of you, regular bathing is required. Any questions before we go home?"

"Are you perhaps a little mad?"

"You followed a strange woman though a wall."

The two girls shrugged at this well reasoned point and took a firm hold of the portkey when instructed to do so.

Harry saw them vanish.

* * *

><p>The goddamn end! For now at least.<p>

Killing Umbridge, let me count the ways...


End file.
